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FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/forestlifeinacadOOhard 


THE  AMERICAN  BROOK  TROUT.  FonJunwii'S 


FOREST  LIFE  LN  ACABIE, 


SKETCHES  OF  SPORT  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY 
IN  THE  LOWER  PROVINCES  OF  THE 
CANADIAN  DOMINION. 


P.Y  CAPTAIN  CAAIPBI’ILL  HARDY, 

ROT.tt  AKTILLEBY. 

At’THOR  OF  “SPORTING  ADVENTURES  IN  THE  NEAV  WORLD.” 


View  on  Gold  River,  N S. 


NEW  YORK : 

D.  APPLETON  & CO.,  GRAND  STREET. 


18C9. 

I 'l'h(  ll'Kjhf  of  Ti'<t II elation  is  Rcscn'cd.'\ 


'ini 

H 


i C) . 


PKEFACE. 


The  Author  having  brought  out  several  years  since 
a work  on  sporting  in  Atlantic  America,  which  was 
favourably  received,  is  induced  to  present  the  present 
volume  of  more  recent  experiences,  especially  as  the 
interval  since  elapsed  has  been  unmarked  by  the  produc- 
fion  of  any  English  publication  of  a similar  kind. 

. . . 

^ Many  inquiries  concerning  the  sports  and  physical 
^ features  of  the  British  Provinces  borderino;  on  the 
^ Atlantic,  evidently  made  by  those  who  meditate  seeking 
,2^  a transatlantic  home,  appear  from  time  to  time  in  the 
columns  of  sporting  periodicals,  and  elicit  various  and 
uncertain  replies. 

The  Authors  sojourn  in  the  Acadian  Provinces  having 
extended  over  a period  of  fifteen  years,  he  trusts  that  the 
information  here  afibrded  will  prove  useful  to  such  querists. 

It  wiU  appear  evident  that  he  has  formed  a strong 
attachment  to  the  country,  its  scenery  and  wild  sports, 
^ and  by  some  it  will  probably  be  said  that  the  pleasures 
r-  of  forest  life  are  exaggerated  in  his  descriptions  of  a 
i country  possessing  neither  grandeur  of  landscape  nor 
'^inducements  to  the  “ sensational  sportsman.  There  is, 
however,  a quiet,  ever-growing  charm  to  be  found  in  tlie 


VI 


PREFACE. 


woodlands  or  on  the  waters  of  Acadie,  which  those  who 
have  resided  there  will  readily  admit.  Many  who  have 
touched  at  its  shores  as  visitors  within  the  Author’s 
recollection,  have  made  it  their  home ; whilst  those  of  his 
vocation  who  have  been  called  away,  have  almost  invari- 
ably expressed  a hope  of  speedy  return. 

Several  of  the  descriptive  sporting  scenes  found  in  this 
work  will  be  recognised  as  having  appeared  in  “The 
Field,”  and  the  Author  begs  to  express  his  appreciation 
of  the  Editor’s  courtesy  in  permitting  their  republication. 
The  notices  on  the  natural  history  of  the  Elk  and  Beaver 
are  reproduced,  with  slight  alterations,  from  the  pages 
of  “ Land  and  Water,”  with  the  kind  consent  of  the 
managers,  the  articles  having  appeared  therein  over  the 
signature  of  “ Alces.” 

The  acknowledgments  of  the  Author  are  also  due  to 
several  old  friends  across  the  Atlantic — to  “ The  Old 
Hunter,”  for  anecdotes  of  camp  life,  and  to  Dr.  Ber- 
nard Gilpin  for  his  valuable  assistance  in  describing 
the  game  fish,  and  in  preparing  the  illustration  of  the 
American  Brook  Trout. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE 23 

CHAPTER  III 

THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  WORLDS  . 45 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MOOSE  HUNTING  . . 84 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER 120 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CARIBOO  HUNTING 135 

CHAPTER  VII.  • 


LAKE  DWELLERS 


104 


CONTEXTS. 


viii 

CHAPTER  YIII. 

PAGE 

CAVE  LODGERS 194 

CHAPTER  IX. 

ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING 211 

CHAPTER  X. 

NOTES  ON  NEYTFOUNDLAND 261 

CHAPTER  XI. 

CAMPING  OUT 283 

CHAPTER  XIL 

THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS 307 


APPENDIX. 

NOCTURNAL  LIFE  OF  ANIMALS  IN  THE  FOREST  . . .336 

ACCLIMATISATION  IN  ACADIE 344 

MISCELLANEOUS  NOTES  AND  ANECDOTES  ON  NATLTIAL  HISTORY  . 355 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


SALMO  FONTINALIS  (COLOURED). 

Frontis2ncce. 

VIEW  ON  GOLD  RIVER,  N.S. 

Vignette  for  Title 

Page. 

THE  lumberer’s  CAJVIP  IN  WINTER  . 

. To  face  Page 

28 

ELMS  IN  AN  INTERVALE  . . . . 

• ?) 

44 

MOOSE  RIDING-DOWN  A TREE 

• 5? 

72 

MOOSE-CALLING  BY  NIGHT  . . . . 

• 

105 

HORNS  OP  THE  CARIBOO  .... 

• 

128 

ON  THE  BARRENS  

155 

BEAVER-DAM  ON  THE  TOBIADUC  , 

• 5? 

173 

MUSQUODOBOIT  HARBOUR  . . . . 

• ?? 

227 

THE  PABINEAU  FALLS,  RIVER  NEPISIGUIT  . 

• 

244 

THE  GRAND  FALLS,  NEPISIGUIT 

• 5? 

254 

FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


OHAPTEK  I. 

THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 

Paddling  down  a picturesque  Nova-Scotian  stream 
called  the  Shubenacadie  some  ten  years  since  in  an 
Indian  canoe,  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  the  steersman 
the  proper  Micmac  pronunciation  of  the  name.  He  re- 
plied, We  call  'em  ^ Segeebenacadie.'  Plenty  wild 
potatoes — segeeben- — once  grew  here.”  ^‘Well,  ‘acadie,’ 
Paul,  what  does  that  mean  ? " I inquired.  “ Means — 
where  you  find  'em,'’  said  the  Indian. 

The  termination,  therefore,  of  acadie,  signifying  a 
place  where  this  or  that  is  found,  being  of  frequent 
occurrence  in  the  old  Indian  names  of  places,  seems 
to  have  been  readily  adopted  by  the  first  permanent 
settlers  in  Nova  Scotia  to  designate  an  extensive  dis- 
trict, though  one  with  uncertain  limits — -tlie  Acadie 
of  the  followers  of  Mons.  He  Monts  in  the  first 
decade  of  the  seventeenth  century  comprising  the  pre- 
sent provinces  of  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick,  and 
Prince  Edward  Island,  witli  a portion  of  the  State  of 


2 


FOEEST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


Maine.*''*  The  peninsula  of  Xova  Scotia  was,  however, 
Acadie  proper,  and  herein  was  laid  the  scene  of  the 
expulsion  of  the  French  neutrals  from  their  settlements 
by  the  shores  of  Minas  Basin  and  elsewhere — an  event 
round  which  has  centred  so  much  misconceived  sym- 
pathy of  authors  and  poets,  but  which  has  since  been 
shown  to  have  been  a most  justifiable  and  necessary 


* Ha^Tiig  had  access  since  these  Enes  were  written  to  Dr,  Dawson’s 
second  edition  of  ‘‘Acadian  Geology,”  recently  pubEshed  by  MacnEEan 
and  Co.,  I was  at  once  struck  with  the  authors  account  of  the  derivation 
of  the  term  “ Acadie,”  which  he  has  given  in  language  so  sinular  to  my 
own  (even  to  instancing  the  Indian  name  of  the  same  river),  that  I think 
it  but  just  to  notice  this  fact — his  work  being  produced  some  time  prior  to 
my  own.  From  this  standard  work  on  the  Geology  of  the  British  Pro- 
vinces, I wiE  also  Cjuote  a few  passages  in  further  exempEfication  of  the 
subject. 

The  author  is  informed  by  the  Eev.  Mr.  Eand,  the  zealous  Indian  Mis- 
sionary^ of  the  Acadian  Indians,  who  has  made  their  ways  and  language  his 
whole  study  for  a long  period  of  years,  and  translated  into  them  tongue  the 
greater  portion  of  Scripture,  that  “ the  word  in  its  original  form  is  Kad^ 
or  Cadie,  and  that  it  is  eqiuvalent  to  region,  field,  ground,  land,  or  place, 
but  that  when  joined  to  an  adjective,  or  to  a noim  with  the  force  of  an 
adjective,  it  denotes  that  the  place  referred  to  is  the  appropriate  or  special 
place  of  the  object  expressed  by  the  noun  or  noun-adjective.  Now  in 
Micmac,  adjectives  of  this  kind  are  formed  by  suffixing  ‘a’  or  ‘wa’  to 
the  noun.  Thus  Segubbun  is  a groimd-nut ; Segubbuna,  of  or  relating  to 
ground-nuts  ; and  Segubbuna-Kaddy  is  the  place  or  region  of  ground-nuts, 
or  the  place  in  which  these  are  to  be  found  in  abundance.” 

As  further  examples  of  this  common  termination  of  the  old  Indian 
names  of  places.  Dr.  Dawson  gives  the  foUovdng  : — 

Soona-Kaddy  (Sunacadie).  Place  of  cranberries. 

Kata-Kaddy.  Eel-ground. 

Tulluk-Kaddy  (Tracadie).  Probably  place  of  residence  ; dwelling  place. 

Buna-Kaddy  (Bunacadie,  or  Benacadie).  Is  the  place  of  bringing  forth  ; 
a place  resorted  to  by  the  moose  at  the  cahdng-time. 

Segoonuma-Kaddy.  Place  of  Gaspereaux  ; Gaspereaux  or  Alewife  river. 

Again,  “ Quodiah  or  Codiah  is  merely  a modification  of  Kaddy  in  the 
language  of  the  MaEceets  ” (a  neighbouring  tribe  dwelEng  in  New  Bruns- 
wick, principally  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  J ohn),  “ and  replacing  the  other 
form  in  certain  compounds.  Thus  Nooda-Kwoddy  (Noodiquoddy  or 
Winchelsea  Harbour)  is  a place  of  seals,  or,  more  literally,  place  of 
seal-himting.  Pestumoo-Kwoddy  (Passamaquoddy),  Pollock-ground,  &c. 
&c.” 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


3 


step,  from  tlieir  unceasing  plottings  with  the  Indians 
against  British  dominancy,  receiving,  of  course,  strong 
support  from  the  French,  who  still  held  Louishurg  and 
Quebec. 

Most  interesting,  and  indeed  romantic,  as  is  the  early 
history  of  Acadie  during  her  constant  change  of  rulers 
until  the  English  obtained  a lasting  possession  of  Nova 
Scotia  in  1713,  and  finally  in  1763  were  ridded  of  their 
troublesome  rivals  in  Cape  Breton  by  the  cession  on  the 
part  of  the  French  of  all  their  possessions  in  Canada  and 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  a history  political  and  statis- 
tical of  the  Lower  Provinces  would  be  quite  irrelevant  to 
the  general  contents  of  a work  like  the  present.  The 
subject  has  been  ably  and  exhaustively  treated  by  the 
great  historian  of  Nova  Scotia,  Judge  Haliburton,  and 
more  recently,  and  in  greater  bulk,  by  Mr.  Murdoch. 
Of  their  works  the  colonists  are  justly  proud,  and  when 
one  reads  the  abundant  events  of  interest  with  which  the 
whole  history  of  Nova  Scotia  is  chequered,  of  its  steady 
progress  and  loyalty  as  a colony,  and  of  the  men  it  has 
produced,  one  cannot  wonder  at  the  present  distaste 
evinced  by  its  population  on  being  compelled  to  merge 
their  compact  history  and  individuality  in  that  of  the 
New  Dominion. 

An  outline  sketch  of  the  physical  geography  of 
Acadie  is  what  is  here  attempted,  and  a description 
of  some  of  the  striking  features  of  this  interesting 
locale. 

Nova  Scotia  is  a peninsula  256  miles  in  length,  and 
about  100  in  breadth  ; a low  plateau,  sixteen  miles  wide, 
connects  it  with  the  continental  province  of  New  Bruns- 
wick. The  greatest  extension  of  the  peninsula,  like  that 


4 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  similar  geographical  conformations  in  all  parts  of  the 
earth,  is  towards  the  south.  The  actual  trend  of  its  At- 
lantic coast  is  from  north-east  to  south-west — a direction 
in  which  are  extended  its  principal  geological  formations 
agreeing  with  the  course  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  of  the 
Apellachian  chain  of  mountains  which  terminate  at  Cape 
Gaspe.  Its  dependency,  Cape  Breton,  is  an  island,  100 
miles  long,  and  eighty  broad,  separated  from  Nova  Scotia 
by  the  narrow,  canal-like  Gut  of  Canseau,  in  places  but 
half  a mile  in  width — a narrow  transverse  valley,^’  says 
the  author  of  Acadian  Geology,^^  excavated  by  the 
currents  of  the  drift  period.”  The  largest  and  the  greater 
proportion  of  the  rivers  flow  across  the  province,-  through 
often  parallel  basins,  into  the  Atlantic,  indicating  a 
general  slope  at  right  angles  to  the  longer  axis.  The 
Shubenacadie  is,  however,  a singular  exception,  rising 
close  to  Halifax  harbour  on  the  Atlantic  side  of  the  pro- 
vince, and  crossing  with  a sluggish  and  even  current 
through  a fertile  intervale  country  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 
The  Atlantic  coasts  of  Nova  Scotia  are  indented  to  a 
wonderful  extent  by  creeks  and  arms  of  the  sea,  often 
running  far  inland — miniature  representations  of  the 
Scandinavian  fiords.  As  might  be  expected,  as  accom- 
paniments to  such  a jagged  coast-line,  there  are  numerous 
islands,  shoals,  and  reefs,  which  render  navigation  dan- 
gerous, and  necessitate  frequent  light-houses.  The 
outlines  of  the  western  shores  are  much  more  regular, 
with  steep  cliffs  and  few  inlets,  somewhat  similar  on 
comparison  with  the  same  features  of  the  continent  itself 
as  displayed  on  its  Atlantic  and  Pacific  coasts.  To  these 
harbours  and  to  the  fisheries  may  be  attributed  the 
position  of  the  capital  of  Halifax  on  the  Atlantic  side. 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


5 


All,  or  nearly  all,  the  best  portion  of  the  country,  in  an 
agricultural  point  of  view,  lies  in  the  interior  and  to  the 
westward.  The  old  capital.  Port  Eoyal,  afterwards  named 
by  the  English  Annapolis  Eoyal,  has  a most  picturesque 
position  at  the  head  of  a beautiful  bay,  termed  Anna- 
polis Basin,  on  the  western  side  of  the  province,  and  is 
backed  by  the  garden  of  Nova  Scotia,  the  Annapolis 
Valley,  which  extends  in  a direction  parallel  to  the 
coast,  sheltered  on  both  sides  by  steep  hills  crowned  with 
maple  forests  for  more  than  sixty  miles,  when  it  termi- 
nates on  the  shores  of  Minas  Basin  in  the  Grand  Pre  of 
the  French  Acadians. 

The  whole  surface  of  the  country  is  dotted  with  count- 
less lakes.  Often  occurring  in  chains,  these  give  rise  to 
the  larger  rivers  which  flow  into  the  Atlantic.  In  fact, 
all  the  rivers  issue  directly  from  lakes  as  their  head 
waters ; these  latter,  again,  being  supplied  by  forest 
brooks  rising  in  elevated  swamps.  In  the  hollows  of  the 
high  lands  are  likewise  embosomed  lakes  of  every  variety 
of  form,  and  often  quite  isolated.  Deep  and  intensely 
blue,  their  shores  fringed  with  rock  boulders,  and  gene- 
rally containing  several  islands,  they  do  much  to  diversify 
the  monotony  of  the  forest  by  their  frequency  and  pic- 
turesque scenery.  In  a paper  read  before  the  Nova- 
Scotian  Institute  in  1865,  the  writer,  Mr.  Belt,  believes 
that  the  conformation  of  the  larger  lake  basins  of  Nova- 
Scotia  is  due  to  glaciation,  evidenced  by  the  deep  fur- 
rows and  scratchings  on  their  exposed  rocks,  the  rounding 
of  protuberant  bosses,  and  the  transportation  of  huge 
boulders — the  Grand  Lake  of  the  Shubenacadie  chain 
being  a notable  instance. 

Although  the  country  is  most  uneven,  sometimes 


6 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


boldly  undulating,  at  others  broken  up  in  extremely 
irregular  forms,  the  only  absolute  levels  being  marginal 
on  the  alluvial  rivers,  there  are  no  lofty  mountains  in 
Nova  Scotia.  The  Cobequid  Hills,  skirting  Minas  Basin 
towards  the  junction  of  the  province  with  New  Bruns- 
wick, are  the  most  elevated,  rising  to  1200  feet  above 
the  sea.  This  chain  runs  for  more  than  100  miles  nearly 
due  east  and  west.  No  bare  peaks  protrude ; it  is 
everywhere  clothed  with  a tall  luxuriant  forest,  with 
a predominance  of  beech  and  sugar-maple. 

Very  similar  in  its  general  physical  features  to  Nova 
Scotia,  New  Brunswick  is  distinguished  by  bolder 
scenery,  larger  ’ rivers,  and  greater  dimensions  of  the 
more  important  conifers.  From  the  forests  in  its  northern 
part  arise  sugar-loaf  mountains  with  naked  summits — 
outlying  peaks  of  the  Alleghanies — which  occur  also  in 
Maine,  more  frequently,  and  on  a still  larger  scale.  The 
mountain  scenery  where  the  Eestigonche  divides  the 
Gaspe  chain  from  the  high  lands  of  northern  New  Bruns- 
wick is  magnificent ; and  the  aspects  of  Sussex  Yale,  and 
of  the  long  valley  of  the  Miramichi,  are  as  charming  as 
those  of  the  intervales  of  Nova  Scotia. 

The  little  red  sandstone  island  of  Prince  Edward,  lying 
in  a crescent-shape,  in  accordance  with  the  coast  lines  of 
New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  in  a deep  southern  bay 
of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  is  the  most  fertile  of  the 
three  provinces,  and  possesses  the  attractive  scenery  of 
high  cultivation  pleasantly  alternating  with  wood  and 
water. 

The  area  of  the  Acadian  provinces  is  as  follows  : — Of 
Nova  Scotia,  with  Cape  Breton,  18, GOO  square  miles  ; of 
New  Brunswick,  27,100  square  miles;  and  of  Prince 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


Edward  Island,  2137  square  miles.  Their  population, 
respectively,  being  nearly  332,000,  252,000,  and 

81,000. 

To  the  Geologist,  the  most  interesting  feature  of  modern 
disco  very  in  a country  long  famous  for  its  mineral  wealth, 
is  the  wide  dissemination  of  gold  in  the  quartz  veins  of 
the  metamorphic  rocks,  which  occur  on  the  Atlantic 
shore  of  Nova  Scotia,  stretching  from  Cape  Sable  to  the 
Gut  of  Canseau,  and  extending  to  a great  distance  across 
the  province.  Its  first  discovery  is  currently  supposed  to 
hav^e  been  made  in  1861  in  a brook  near  Tangier  har- 
bour, about  sixty  miles  from  Halifax,  and  to  have  been 
brought  about  by  a man,  stopping  to  drink,  perceiving  a 
particle  of  the  precious  metal  shining  amongst  the  pebbles. 
This  led  to  an  extended  research,  soon  rewarded  by  dis- 
covery of  the  matrix,  and  general  operations  accompanied 
by  fresh  discoveries  in  widely  distant  points,  and  thus, 
perhaps,  was  fairly  started  gold  mining  in  Nova  Scotia. 
I believe,  however,  that  I am  right  in  attributing  the 
honour  of  being  the  first  gold  finder  in  the  province  to 
my  friend  and  quondam  companion  in  the  woods,  Captain 
C.  L'Estrange  of  the  Eoyal  Artillery,  and  understand 
that  his  claim  to  priority  in  this  matter  has  been  recently 
fully  recognised  by  the  Provincial  Government ; it  being 
satisfactorily  shown  that  he  found  and  brought  in 
specimens  of  gold  in  quartz  from  surface  rocks,  when 
moose-hunting  in  the  eastern  districts,  some  time  before 
the  discoveries  at  Tangier.  The  Oven’s  Head  diggings, 
near  Lunenburg,  were  discovered  during  the  summer  of 
the  same  year ; and  the  sea-beach  below  the  cliffs  at  this 
locality  afforded  for  a short  time  a golden  harvest  by 
washing  the  sand  and  pounded  shale  which  had  been 


8 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


silted  into  the  fissures  of  the  rocks  below  high  water 
mark.  The  gold  thus  obtained  had  of  course  come  from 
the  cliff  detritus — the  result  of  the  incessant  dash  of 
Atlantic  waves  over  a long  period  of  time — and  was  soon 
exhausted:  the  claims  on  the  cliff,  however  have  proved 
valuable.  Then  followed  the  discovery  of  the  highly- 
prolific  barrel-shaped  quartz  at  Allen’s  farm,  afterwards 
known  as  the  Waverley  diggings,  of  the  Indian  Harbour 
and  Wine  Harbour  gold-fields  on  the  Eastern  Coast 
beyond  Tangier,  and  of  others  to  the  westward,  at  Gold 
River  and  La  Have.  Farther  back  from  the  coast,  and 
towards  the  edge  of  the  slate  formation,  the  precious 
metal  has  been  found  at  Mount  L^niacke,  and  in  the  most 
northern  extension  of  the  granitic  metamorphic  strata 
towards  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  at  a place  called  Little 
Chester. 

Though  no  small  excitement  naturally  attended  the 
simultaneous  and  hitherto  unexpected  discovery  of  such 
extensive  gold  areas,  the  development  of  the  Nova- 
Scotian  gold  mines  has  been  conducted  with  astonishing 
decorum  and  order  : the  robberies  and  bloodshed  incident 
on  such  a pursuit  in  wilder  parts  of  America,  or  at  the 
Antipodes,  have  been  here  totally  unknown.  The  indi- 
viduals who  prospected  and  took  up  claims,  soon  finding 
the  difficulty  of  remunerating  themselves  by  their  own 
unaided  labour,  disposed  of  them  for  often  very  con- 
siderable sums  to  the  companies  of  Nova-Scotians, 
Germans,  and  Americans,  which  had  been  formed  to 
work  the  business  methodically.  Though  constantly  seen 
glistening  as  specks  in  the  quartz,  close  to  the  surface, 
the  metal  was  seldom  disclosed  in  nuggets  of  great  value, 
and  the  operation  of  cinshing  alone  (extracting  the  gold 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


9 


by  amalgamation  with  quicksilver)  proved  remunerative 
in  the  long  run  and  when  carried  out  extensively. 

At  the  commencement  of  this  important  era  in  the 
economical  history  of  Nova  Scotia,  the  interest  attached 
to  the  pursuit  of  gold-digging  may  be  well  imagined. 
Farm  labourers,  and  farmers  themselves,  deserted  their 
summer’s  occupation  and  hastened  to  the  localities  pro- 
claimed as  gold-fields.  Shanties,  camps,  and  stores 
appeared  amongst  the  rough  rocks  which  strewed  the 
wilderness  in  the  depths  of  the  forest.  At  Tangier,  when 
I visited  it  (the  same  summer  in  which  gold  was  first 
discovered  there),  a street  had  risen,  with  some  three 
hundred  inhabitants,  composed  of  rude  frame  houses, 
bark  camps,  and  tents.  Flags  flaunted  over  the  stores 
and  groggeries,  and  the  characteristic  American  “ store  ” 
displayed  its  motley  merchandise  as  in  the  settlements. 
Anything  could  be  here  purchased,  from  a pickaxe  to  a 
crinoline.  A similar  scene  was  shortly  afterwards  pre- 
sented at  the  Oven’s  Head ; whilst  at  the  Waverley 
diggings,  only  ten  miles  distant  from  the  capital  of  Nova 
Scotia,  a perfect  town  has  sprung  up.  This  latter  locality 
is  famous  for  the  singular  formation  of  its  gold-bearing 
cpartz  lodes,  termed  The  Barrels.”  These  barrels  were 
discovered  on  the  hill-side  at  a small  distance  below  the 
surface,  and  consisted  of  long  trunk- like  shafts  of  quartz 
enclosed  in  quartzite.  They  were  arranged  in  parallel 
lines,  and  looked  very  like  the  tops  of  drains  exj^osed  for 
repair.  At  first  they  were  found  to  be  exceedingly  rich 
in  gold,  some  really  fine  nuggets  having  been  displayed ; 
but  subsequent  research  has  proved  them  a failure,  and 
the  barrel  formation  has  been  abandoned  for  quartz 
occurring  in  veins  of  ordinary  position.  A German  com- 


10 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


pany  establislied  here  has  succeeded  in  obtaining  large 
profits,  working  the  quartz  veins  by  shafts  sunk  to  a great 
depth.  Their  crushing  mill,  when  I visited  it,  contained 
sixteen  ponderous  ‘‘stampers”  moved  by  water  power. 
Every  three  or  four  weeks  an  ingot  was  forwarded  by 
them  to  Halifax,  weighing  four  or  five  hundred  ounces. 
Some  beautiful  specimens  of  gold  in  quartz  of  the 
purest  white,  from  this  locality,  were  exhibited  by 
the  Commissioners  at  the  last  great  International  Exhi- 
bition. 

Even  at  the  present  time  it  is  impossible  to  form  any 
just  estimation  of  the  value  of  the  Nova-Scotian  gold- 
fields. Scientific  men  have  given  it  as  their  opinion  that 
the  main  seat  of  the  treasure  has  not  yet  been  touched, 
and  that  the  present  workings  are  but  surface  pickings. 
Then,  again,  we  may  refer  to  the  immense  extent  of  the 
Lower  Silurian  rocks  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  At  one  end 
of  the  province,  stretching  back  for  some  fifty  miles,  the 
whole  area  of  the  formation  has  been  stated  to  comprise 
about  7000  square  miles.  The  wide  dispersion  over  this 
tract  of  casual  gold  discoveries  and  of  the  centres  of 
actual  operations  naturally  lead  to  the  belief  that  gold 
mining  is  still  in  its  infancy  in  Nova  Scotia. 

The  yield  of  gold  from  tlie  quartz  veins  is  exceedingly 
variable  : some  will  scarcely  produce  half  an  ounce,  others 
as  much  as  eight  ounces  to  the  ton.  I have  seen  a large 
quartz  pebble  picked  up  on  the  road  side  between  Halifax 
and  the  Waverley  diggings,  rather  larger  than  a man’s 
head,  which  was  spangled  and  streaked  with  gold  in  every 
direction,  estimated  in  value  at  nearly  one  hundred 
pounds.  It  is  curious  to  reflect  for  how  many  years  that 
valuable  stone  had  been  unwittingly  passed  by  by  the 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


11 


needy  settler  returning  from  market  to  kis  distant  farm 
on  the  Eastern  Road.  Now  frequent  roadside  chippings 
strewed  about  attest  the  curiosity  of  the  modern  traveller 
through  the  gold  districts. 

Of  much  greater  importance,  however,  to  these  colonies 
than  the  recently  discovered  gold-fields  are  their  bound- 
less resources  as  coal-producing  countries,  paralysed 
though  their  works  may  be  at  present  by  the  pertinacious 
refusal  on  the  part  of  the  United  States  to  renew  the 
Reciprocity  Treaty.  To  this  temporary  prostration  an 
end  must  soon  be  put  by  the  opening  up  of  intercolonial 
commerce,  to  be  brought  about  by  the  speedy  completion 
of  an  uninterrupted  railway  communication  between  the 
Canadas  and  the  Lower  Provinces,  and  well-established 
commercial  relations  throughout  the  whole  of  the  New 
Dominion. 

The  coal-fields  of  Acadie  are  numerous  and  of  large 
area,  the  carboniferous  system  extending  throughout  the 
province  of  Nova  Scotia,  including  Cape  Breton,  bounding 
the  metamorphic  belt  of  the  Atlantic  coast,  and  passing 
through  the  isthmus,  which  joins  the  two  provinces,  into 
New  Brunswick,  where  it  attains  its  broadest  development. 
In  the  latter  province,  however,  the  actual  coal  seams  are 
unimportant ; and  it  is  in  certain  localities  in  Nova 
Scotia  and  Cape  Breton  where  the  magnificent  collieries 
of  British  North  America  are  found,  and  from  which  it 
has  been  said  the  whole  steam  navy  of  Great  Britain 
might  be  supplied  for  centuries  to  come,  as  well  as  the 
demands  of  the  neighbouring  colonies.  It  is  impossible 
to  over-estimate  the  political  importance  accruing  from 
so  vast  a transatlantic  storehouse  of  this  j^recious  mineral 
both  to  England  and  the  colonists  themselves,  whilst 


1*2 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


singularly  enough,  on  the  Pacific  side  of  the  continent, 
and  in  British  possession,  occur  the  prolific  coal-fields  of 
Vancouver’s  Island.  “ That  the  eastern  and  western 
portals  of  British  America,”  says  Mr.  E.  G.  Haliburton,'"' 
“ should  be  so  favoured  by  nature,  augurs  weU  for  the 
New  Dominion,  which,  possessing  a vast  tract  of  magni- 
ficent agricultural  country  between  these  extreme  limits, 
only  requires  an  energetic,  self-reliant  people,  worthy  of 
such  a home,  to  raise  it  to  a high  position  amongst 
nations.” 

The  grand  coal  column  from  the  main  seam  of  the 
Albion  mines  at  Pictou,  exhibited  at  the  last  Great  Exhi- 
bition in  London,  will  be  long  remembered.  This  seam 
is  37  feet  in  vertical  thickness.  With  iron  of  excellent 
quality  found  abundantly  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
her  great  coal-fields,  and  fresh  discoveries  of  various  other 
minerals  of  economic  value  being  constantly  made,  Acadie 
has  all  the  elements  wherewith  to  forge  for  herself  the 
armour-plated  bulwark  of  great  commercial  prosperity. 
And  yet  the  shrewd  capitalists  of  the  Great  Eepublic  are 
rapidly  becoming  possessed  of  the  mineral  wealth  of  the 
country,  almost  unchallenged  by  pro^fincial  rivalry. 

Considerably  removed  from  the  mainland,  with  a coast 
line  for  some  distance  conforming  to  the  direction  of  the 
Gulf  Stream,  the  northern  edge  of  which  closely  approaches 
its  shores,  the  climate  of  Nova  Scotia  is  necessarily  most 
uncertain;  south-westerly  winds  are  continually  struggling 
for  mastery  with  the  cold  blasts  which  blow  over  the 
continent  from  the  north-west.  In  comparatively  fine 
weather  in  summer,  the  sea  fog,  which  marks  the  mingling 

* On  the  Coal  Trade  of  the  New  Dominion,  by  R.  G.  Haliburton,  F.S.A., 
F.R.S.X.A.  : from  “ Proceedings  of  the  X.S.  Institute  of  Xat.  Science.” 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


13 


of  tlie  warm  waters  of  the  great  Atlantic  current  with 
the  colder  stream  which  courses  down  the  eastern  coast 
of  Newfoundland  from  the  Polar  regions,  carrying  with 
it  troops  of  icebergs,  is  almost  always  hovering  off  the 
land,  from  which  it  is  barely  repelled  by  the  gentle  west 
winds  from  the  continent.  The  funnel-shaped  Bay  of 
Fundy,  and  the  bight  in  the  Nova-Scotian  coast  which 
merges  into  the’  long  harbour  of  Halifax  are  the  strong- 
holds of  this  obnoxious  pall  of  vapour.  A few  miles 
inland  the  west  wind  generally  prevails  ; indeed  it  is 
often  astonishing  with  what  suddenness  one  emerges 
from  the  fog  on  leaving  the  coast.  A point  or  two  of 
change  in  the  direction  of  the  wind  makes  all  the  diffe- 
rence. I have  often  made  the  voyage  from  Halifax  to 
Cape  Eace — the  exact  course  of  the  northern  fog  line — 
alternating  rapidly  between  sunshine  and  dismal  and 
dangerous  obscurity  as  the  wind  veered  in  the  least 
degree  on  either  side  of  our  course.  Past  this,  the  south- 
easternmost  point  of  Newfoundland,  the  fog  holds  on  its 
way  till  the  great  banks  are  cleared  : it  seldom  works  up 
the  coast  to  the  northward,  and  is  of  rare  occurrence  at 
St.  Johns.  St.  John,  New  Brunswick,  seems  to  be  espe- 
cially visited,  though  it  has  no  footing  in  the  interior  of 
that  province. 

Insidiously  drawing  around  the  mariner  in  these 
w^aters  in  calm  summer  weather,  the  fog  of  the  Gulf 
Stream  is  always  thickest  at  this  season,  although  the 
stratum  of  vapour  scarcely  reaches  over  the  vessehs  tops, 
the  moon  or  stars  being  generally  visible  from  the  deck 
at  night.  Fog  trumpets  or  lights  are  to  a certain  extent 
useful  precautions,  yet  even  the  strictest  watch  from  the 
bowsprit  is  often  insufficient  to  avert  collision. 


14 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


In  winter  time  the  propinquity  of  the  Gulf  Stream  pro- 
duces frequent  moderations  of  temperature.  Deep  falls 
of  snow  are  perpetually  melting  under  its  warm  currents 
of  air  when  borne  inland,  though  such  phases  are  quickly 
succeeded  by  a reassertion  of  true  North  American  cold, 
with  a return  of  the  north-west  wind,  arresting  the  thaw, 
and  encasing  the  steaming  snow  with  a film  of  glace  ice. 

During  the  spring  months  again,  the  Arctic  currents, 
accompanied  by  easterly  or  north-easterly  winds,  exercise 
a chilling  influence  on  the  climate  of  the  Atlantic  coast 
of  the  Lower  Provinces.  Immense  areas  of  field  ice  float 
past  the  Nova-Scotian  shores  from  the  mouth  of  the  St. 
La^vrence  and  harbours  of  the  Gulf,  often  working  round 
into  Halifax  harbour  and  obstructing  navigation,  whilst 
vegetation  is  thereby  greatly  retarded. 

The  mirage  observed  on  approaching  these  floating  ice 
plains  at  sea  is  very  striking — mountains  appear  to  grow 
out  of  them,  with  waterfalls ; towns,  castles,  and  spires, 
ever  fleeting  and  varying  in  form.  I have  observed  very 
similar  effects  produced  in  summer,  off  the  coast,  on  a 
clear  day,  on  a distant  wall  of  sea  fog,  by  evaporation. 
As  might  be  reasonably  expected,  the  commingling  of 
two  great  currents  emanating  from  such  far  distant 
sources  as  do  the  Gulf  and  the  Polar  streams,  must  be 
productive  at  their  point  of  junction,  of  phenomena  inte- 
resting to  the  ichthyologist.  To  the  student  of  this 
branch  of  natural  history  Halifax  is  an  excellent  position 
for  observation,  and  from  the  recorded  memoranda  of 
Mr.  J.  ]\I.  Jones  we  find  many  curious  meetings  of 
northern  and  southern  types  in  the  same  waters — for 
instance  that  of  the  albicore  and  the  Greenland  shark 
(Thynnus  vulgaris  and  Scymnus  borealis) — the  former  a 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


15 


well-known  inhabitant  of  the  tropics,  the  latter  a true 
boreal  form.  Tropical  forms  of  fish  are  of  frequent  oc- 
currence in  the  Halifax  market,  and  shoals  of  flying 
fish  have  been  observed  by  Admiral  Sir  Alexander  Milne 
in  the  Gulf  Stream  as  far  as  37  deg.  50  min.  N. 

A sketch,  however  slight,  of  the  physical  geography  of 
the  Acadian  Provinces  would  be  incomplete  were  notice 
to  be  omitted  of  the  famous  Bay  of  Fundy  tide — a page 
of  modern  geological  history  much  to  be  studied  in  eluci- 
dation of  phenomena  of  ages  long  past,  as  pointed  out 
by  Dr.  Dawson,  the  well-known  author  of  a valuable 
scientific  work  termed  Acadian  Geology.’’  On  the 
Atlantic  seaboard  at  Halifax  the  rise  of  the  spring  tide 
is  about  six  feet,  a height  attained  at  high  water  with 
but  little  variation  throughout  this  coast.  After  passing 
Cape  Sable,  the  southernmost  extremity  of  the  province, 
the  portals  of  the  bay  may  be  said  to  be  gained  ; and 
here  an  appreciable  rise  occurs  in  the  tidal  wave  of 
about  three  feet.  Farther  round,  at  Yarmouth,  sixteen 
feet  is  the  height  at  high  water  in  spring  tides,  reaching 
to  twenty-seven  feet  at  Digby  Gut,  forty-three  feet  at 
Parsboro,  and,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Shubenacadie  Eiver 
at  the  head  of  Cobequid  Bay,  occasionally  attaining  the 
extraordinary  elevation  of  seventy  feet  above  low  water 
mark.  In  this,  as  well  as  in  several  other  rivers  dis- 
charging into  the  bay,  the  tide  rushes  up  the  channel  for 
a considerable  distance  into  the  interior  with  an  at- 
tendant phenomenon  termed  the  Bore,” — an  advanced 
wave  or  wall  of  surging  waters,  some  four  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  descending  fresh  water  stream.  The  spec- 
tator, standing  on  the  river  bank,  presently  sees  a proces- 
sion of  barges,  boats,  or  Indian  canoes,  taking  advantage 


16 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  this  natural  Express  ’’  from  the  ocean,  whirling  past 
him  at  some  seven  or  eight  miles  per  hour,  whilst  the 
long  shelving  banks  of  red  mud  are  quickly  hidden 
by  the  eager  impulsive  current.  Out,  in  the  open  bay, 
the  eddying  rips ''  over  the  flats  as  the  rising  waters 
cover  them,  or  the  tumultuous  seas  which  rise  where 
the  great  tide  is  restrained  by  jutting  headlands  afford 
still  greater  spectacles.  With  a strong  wind  blowing 
in  an  opposite  direction  to  the  tide,  the  na\dgation  of 
the  Bay  of  Fundy  is  perilous  on  a dark  night,  and 
many  are  the  victims  engulfed  with  their  little  fish- 
ing smacks  in  its  treacherous  and  ever-shifting  shoals. 
It  wears  a beautiful  aspect,  however,  in  fine  summer 
weather — a soft  chalky  hue  quite  different  from  the 
stern  blue  of  the  sea  on  the  Atlantic  shores,  and  some- 
what approaching  the  summer  tints  of  the  Channel  on 
the  coasts  of  England.  The  surrounding  scenery  too  is 
beautiful ; and  the  twelve  hours’  steam  voyage  from 
Windsor,  Nova  Scotia,  to  St.  John,  the  capital  of  New 
Brunswick,  past  the  picturesque  headlands  of  Blomidon, 
Cape  Split,  and  Parsboro,  in  fine  weather  most  enjoyable. 
The  red  mud,  or,  rather,  exceedingly  fine  sand,  carried 
by  the  surging  waters,  is  deposited  at  high  tide  on  the 
flats  and  over  the  land  overflown  at  the  edges  of  the  bay, 
and  thus  have  been  produced  the  extensive  salt  marsli 
land&  which  constitute  the  wealth  of  the  d^vellers  by  the 
bay  sliores — soils  which,  never  receiving  the  artificial 
stimulus  of  manure,  show  no  signs  of  exhaustion  though 
a century  may  have  elapsed  since  their  utilisation.  The 
occurrence  of  submerged  forests,  the  stumps  of  which 
still  stand  in  situ,  observed  by  Dr.  Dawson,  and  indicat- 
ing a great  subsidence  of  the  land  in  modern  times,  and 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


17 


the  frequent  footprints  of  birds  and  animals  on  the  suc- 
cessive depositions  of  mud,  dried  by  the  sun,  and  easily 
detached  with  the  layers  on  which  they  were  stamped, 
are  interesting  features  in  connection  with  the  geology  of 
this  district. 

The  Fauna  and  Flora  of  the  three  provinces  constitut- 
ing Acadia  (the  name,  though,  is  now  seldom  applied 
otherwise  than  poetically)  are  almost  identical  with  those 
displayed  on  the  neighbouring  portions  of  the  continent, 
in  New  England,  and  the  Canadas,  though  of  course,  and 
as  might  be  expected,  a few  species  swell  the  lists  of 
either  kingdom  further  inland  and  on  receding  from  the 
ocean.  There  are  one  or  two  noticeable  differences 
between  the  provinces  themselves.  Thus,  for  instance, 
whilst  the  white  cedar  (Thuya  occidentalis)  is  one  of  the 
most  common  of  the  New  Brunswick  coniferm,  frequent 
up  to  its  junction  with  Nova  Scotia,  there  are  but  one  or 
two  isolated  patches  of  this  tree  existing,  or  ever  known 
to  exist,  in  the  latter  province,  and  these  not  found  near 
the  isthmus,  but  on  the  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy, 
near  Granville.  Again,  not  a porcupine  exists  on  the 
island  of  Cape  Breton,  though  abundant  in  Nova  Scotia 
up  to  the  strait  of  Canseau,  in  places  scarcely  half  a mile 
broad.  The  migratory  wild  pigeon,  formerly  equally 
abundant  in  New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  has  now 
entirely  deserted  the  latter,  though  still  numerous  in 
summer  in  the  former  province. 

The  Canadian  deer  (Cervus  virginianus),  common  in 
New  Brunswick,  has  never  crossed  the  isthmus ; and  the 
wolf  (Canis  occidentalis),  though  now  and  then  entering 
Nova  Scotia,  apparently  cannot  make  up  its  mind  to 
stay,  though  there  is  an  amplitude  of  wilderness  country : 


18 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


seen  at  long  intervals  of  time  in  different  parts  of  the 
province,  and  almost  simultaneously,  it  rapidly  scours 
over  the  country,  and  retires  to  the  continent. 

There  are  no  deer  now  indigenous  to  Prince  Edward’s 
Island,  though  the  cariboo  was  formerly  found  there  in 
abundance.  The  Morse  or  Waffus,  once  numerous  on 
the  coasts,  seems  to  have  entirely  disappeared  even 
from  the  most  northern  parts  of  the  Gulf : it  was  once 
common  in  the  St.  Lawrence  as  far  up  as  the  Saguenay. 
Another  disappearance  from  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia 
is  that  of  the  Snow  Goose  (Anser  hyperboreus),  now 
seldom  seen  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Of  the  former  presence  of  the  Great  Auk  (Alca  im- 
pennis)  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Gulf,  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  there  are  no  living  witnesses,  or  even 
existing  traditions.  That  it  was  once  a resident  on  the 
shores  of  Newfoundland  is  shown  by  the  specimens 
found  in  guano  on  the  Funk  Islands  entombed  under 
ice.  As  has  probably  happened  in  the  case  of  this  bird, 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  retirement  of  other  members  of 
the  true  Boreal  Fauna  within  more  Arctic  limits  forebodes 
a gradual,  though  often  inexplicable,  progress  towards 
extinction. 

The  newly-arrived  emigrant  or  observant  visitor  can- 
not fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  similarity  of  forms  in 
both  the  animal  and  the  vegetable  kingdoms  to  those 
of  western  Europe,  here  presented.  To  the  Englishman 
unaccustomed  to  northern  fir  forests  and  their  accom- 
panying bora,  the  woods  are  naturally  the  strangest 
feature  in  the  country — the  density  of  the  stems  in  the 
jagged  forest  lines  which  bound  the  settlements,  the  long 
parallel-sided  openings,  cut  out  by  the  axe,  which  mark 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


19 


the  new  clearings,  where  crops  are  growing  rankly  amongst 
the  stumps,  roots,  and  rock  boulders  which  still  strew 
the  ground,  and  the  wild  tangiement  of  bushes  and  briars 
on  half-reclaimed  ground — but  in  the  fields  and  uplands 
of  a thoroughly  cleared  district  he  is  scarcely  reminded 
of  a difference  in  the  scene  from  that  to  which  he  has 
been  accustomed.  In  the  pastures  he  sees  English 
grasses,  with  the  buttercup, the  ox-eye,  and  tlTe  dandelion; 
the  thistle  and  many  a well  known  weed  are  recognised 
growing  by  the  meadow-side,  with  the  wild  rose  and  the 
blackberry,  as  in  English  hedge-rows.  Though  the  house- 
sparrow  and  the  robin  are  missed,  and  he  is  surprised  to 
find  the  latter  name  applied  everywhere  to  the  numerous 
red-breasted  thrushes  which  hop  so  fearlessly  about  the 
pastures,  he  finds  much  to  remind  him  of  bird  life  at 
home.  Swallows  and  martins  are  as  numerous,  indeed 
more  so  ; the  tit-mouse,  the  wren,  and  the  gold- crest  are 
found  to  be  almost  identical  with  those  of  the  old 
country,  the  former  being  closely  analogous  in  every 
respect  to  the  small  blue  tit,  and  many  of  the  warblers 
and  flycatchers  have  much  in  common  with  their  Trans- 
atlantic representatives.  The  rook  is  not  here,  but  its  place 
is  taken  by  flocks  of  the  common  American  crow,  often 
as  gregarious  in  its  habits  as  the  former,  whilst  the 
various  birds  of  prey  present  most  striking  similarities 
of  plumage  w^hen  compared  with  those  of  Europe;  and 
the  appropriateness  of  calling  the  American  species  the 
same  common  names  as  are  applied  to  the  gosliawk, 
sparrowhawk,  or  osprey,  is  at  once  admitted.  The  was[), 
the  bee,  and  the  house-fly,  present  no  appreciable  diffe- 
rences, nor  can  the  visitor  detect  even  a shade  of  dis- 
tinction in  many  of  the  butterflies. 


20 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  seafaring  man  arriving  from  Europe  will  find  even 
less  of  divergence  amongst  the  finny  tribes  and  the  sea- 
fowl  on  these  coasts,  and  indeed  will  not  pretend  to  assert 
a difference  in  most  cases. 

The  very  interesting  question  thus  readily  suggests 
itself  to  the  naturalist — in  what  fight  are  many  analogous 
forms  in  Western  Europe  and  Atlantic  North  America  to 
be  regarded  in  reference  to  each  other  ? The  identity  of 
the  species  which  almost  continuously  range  the  circum- 
arctic  zoological  province  is  perfectly  well  established  in 
such  instances  as  those  of  the  arctic  fox,  the  white  bear,  and 
of  many  of  the  Cetacese  and  Phocidae  amongst  mammals ; 
of  the  eiders,  common  and  king,  the  pintail  and  others  of 
the  Anatidae,  and  of  the  sturgeon,  capelin,  herring,  and 
probably  the  sea-salmon  amongst  fishes.  Nor  could  the 
fact  be  reasonably  doubted  in  the  case  of  creatures  which 
are  permanent  residents  of  a limited  cii'cumpolar  zone,  or 
even  in  that  of  the  migratoiy  species  which  afiect  polar 
regions  for  a season,  and  thence  regailarly  range  south- 
wards over  the  diverging  continents.  The  question,  how- 
ever, which  is  offered  for  solution  is  respecting  those 
analogous  forms  which  have  apparently  permanent  habi- 
tats in  the  Old  and  New  Worlds,  and  have  always 
remained  (as  far  as  is  knovTi)  geographically  isolated. 
With  regard  to  the  arctic  deer  the  author  s considerations 
will  be  found  given  at  some  length,  but  there  are  many 
other  analogies  in  the  fauna  and  flora  of  the  two  hemi- 
spheres, which,  on  comparison,  naturally  lead  to  a dis- 
cussion on  the  subject  of  local  variation,  and  as  to  how 
far  the  system  of  classification  is  to  be  thus  modified. 

Buffons  idea  that  many  of  the  animals  of  the  New 
World  were  the  descendants  of  Old  World  stock  would 


THE  MARITIME  PROVINCES. 


21 


seem  not  only  to  be  set  aside  but  reversed  in  argument 
by  a new  and  growing  belief  that  transmission  of  species 
has  extensively  occurred  from  America  to  Europe  and 
Asia.  “America,”  says  Hugh  Miller,  “though  emphati- 
cally the  New  World  in  relation  to  its  discovery  by 
civilized  man,  is,  at  least  in  these  regions,  an  old  world 
in  relation  to  geological  type,  and  it  is  the  so-called  old 
world  that  is  in  reality  the  new  one.  Sir  Charles  Lyell, 
in  the  “ Antiquity  of  Man,”  states  that  “ Professors 
Unger  and  Heer  have  advanced,  on  botanical  grounds 
the  former  existence  of  an  Atlantic  continent,  during 
some  part  of  the  tertiary  period,  as  affording  the  only 
plausible  explanation  that  can  be  imagined  of  the 
analogy  between  the  miocene  flora  of  Central  Europe  and 
the  existing  flora  of  Eastern  America.  Other  naturalists, 
again,  have  supposed  this  to  have  been  effected  through 
an  overland  communication  existing  between  America 
and  Eastern  Asia  in  the  direction  of  the  Aleutian 
Islands.  Sir  George  Simpson  has  stated  that  almost 
direct  proof  exists  of  the  American  origin  of  the 
Tchuktchi  of  Siberia ; whilst  it  would  appear  that 
primitive  customs  and  traditions  in  many  parts  of  the 
globe  are  being  traced  to  aboriginal  man  existing  in 
America. 

Professor  Lawson,  of  Dalhousie  College,  Halifax,  N.S., 
in  referring  to  the  recent  and  well-established  discovery 
of  heather  (Calluna  vulgaris)  as  indigenous  to  the 
Acadian  provinces,  observes,  “ The  occurrence  of  this 
common  European  plant  in  such  small  quantities  in 
isolated  localities  on  the  American  continent  is  very  in- 
structive, and  obviously  points  to  a period  when  the  heath 
was  a widely-spread  social  plant  in  North  America,  as  it  is 


22 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


still  in  Europe  where  oft-recurring  fires  are  yearly  lessen- 
ing its  range.  In  Calluna  we  have  probably  an  example 
of  a species  on  the  verge  of  extinction  as  an  American 
species,  while  maintaining  a vigorous  and  abundant 
growth  in  Europe.  If  so,  may  not  Europe  be  indebted 
to  America  for  Calluna,  and  not  America  to  Europe 
With  such  scanty  data,  however,  valuable  indeed  as 
they  are  in  building  up  theories,  but  few  and  uncertain 
steps  can  be  made  towards  solving  so  important  a ques- 
tion. An  irresistible  conclusion  is  however  forced  on  the 
mind  of  the  naturalist  that  in  many  of  the  analogies  he 
meets  with  in  animal  or  vegetable  life  in  this  portion  of 
the  New  World  it  is  not  fair  to  call  them  even  types  of 
those  of  the  Old  ; they  are  analogous  species. 


CHAPTEK  IL 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 

A GLANCE  at  a physical  map  of  the  country  will  serve 
to  show  the  relative  position  of  the  main  bodies  of  the 
North  American  forest,  the  division  of  the  woods  where 
the  wedge-shaped  north-western  corner  of  the  plains  comes 
in,  and  their  well-defined  limit  on  the  edge  of  the  barren 
grounds,  coincident  with  the  line  of  perpetual  ground 
frost. 

Characterised  by  a predominance  of  coniferous  trees, 
the  great  belt  of  forest  country  which  constitutes  the 
hunting  grounds  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  has  its 
nearest  approach  to  the  Arctic  Ocean  in  the  Mackenzie 
Valley,  becoming  ever  more  and  more  stunted  and 
monotonous  until  it  merges  at  length  into  the  barren 
waste. 

In  its  southern  extension,  on  meeting  the  northern 
extremity  of  the  prairies,  it  branches  into  two  streams — 
the  one  directed  along  the  Pacific  coast  line  and  its  great 
mountain  chain ; the  other  crossing  the  continent 
diagonally  between  the  boundaries  of  the  plains  and 
Hudsons  Bay  towards  the  Atlantic.  On  this  course 
the  forest  soon  receives  important  accessions  of  new 
forms  of  trees,  gradually  introduced  on  approaching  the 
lake  district,  and  loses  much  of  its  sterner  character. 


24 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


The  oak,  beech,  and  maple  groves  of  the  Canadas  are 
equally  characteristic  of  the  forest  scenery  of  these 
regions,  with  the  white  pine  or  the  hemlock  spruce. 

On  approaching  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  the  forest  is 
again  somewhat  impoverished  by  the  absence  of  those 
forms  which  seem  to  require  an  inland  climate.  In  the 
forests  of  Acadie  many  Canadian  trees  found  farther 
westward  in  the  same  latitude  are  wanting,  or  of  so  rare 
occurrence  as  to  exercise  no  influence  on  the  general 
features  of  the  country,  such  as  the  hickory  and  the 
butternut.  In  Nova  Scotia,'’  says  Professor  Lawson, 
‘'the  preponderance  of  northern  species  is  much  greater 
than  in  corresjionding  latitudes  in  Canada,  and  many  of 
our  common  plants  are  in  Western  Canada  either  entirely 
northern,  or  strictly  confined  to  the  great  swamps,  whose 
cool  waters  and  dense  shade  form  a shelter  for  northern 
species.” 

Though  certain  soils  and  physical  conformations  of  the 
country  occasionally  favour  exclusive  groviihs  of  either, 
the  woods  of  the  Lower  Provinces  display  a pleasing 
mixture  of  what  are  locally  termed  hard  and  soft  wood 
trees — in  other  words,  of  deciduous  and  evergreen  vege- 
tation. Broken  only  by  clearings  and  settlements  in  the 
lines  of  alluvial  valleys,  roads,  or  important  fishing  or 
mining  stations,  the  forest  still  obtains  over  lars^e  sections 
of  the  country,  notwithstanding  continued  and  often 
wanton  mutilation  by  the  axe,  and  the  immense  area 
annually  devastated  by  fire.  The  fierce  energy  of 
American  vegetation,  if  allowed,  quickly  fills  up  gaps, 
and  the  l)urnt,  blackened  waste  is  soon  re-clothed  with 
the  verdure  of  dense  copses  of  birch  and  aspen. 

The  true  character  of  the  American  forest  is  not  to 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


25 


be  studied  from  the  road-side  or  along  the  edges  of 
the  cleared  lands.  To  read  its  mysteries  aright,  we  must 
plunge  into  its  depths  and  live  under  its  shelter  through 
all  the  phases  of  the  seasons,  leaving  far  behind  the  sound 
of  the  settlers  axe  and  the  tinkling  of  his  cattle-bells. 
The  strange  feelings  of  pleasure  attached  to  a life 
in  the  majestic  solitudes  of  the  pine  forests  of  North 
America  cannot  be  attained  by  a merely  marginal 
acquaintance. 

On  entering  the  woods,  the  first  feature  which  natu- 
rally strikes  us  is  the  continual  occurrence  of  dense  copses 
of  young  trees,  where  a partial  clearing  has  afforded  a 
chance  to  the  profusely  sown  germs  to  spring  up  and 
perpetuate  the  ascendancy  of  vegetation,  though  of 
course,  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  but  few  of  these 
would  live  to  assert  themselves  as  forest  trees.  As  we 
advance  we  perceive  a taller  and  straighter  growth,  and 
observe  that  many  species,  which  in  more  civilised 
districts  are  mere  ornamental  shrubs,  throwing  out  their 
feathery  branches  close  to  the  ground,  now  assume  the 
character  of  forest  trees  with  clean  straight  stems, 
though  somewhat  slender  withal,  eno’endering  the  belief 
that,  left  by  themselves  in  the  open,  they  would  offer  but 
a short  resistance  to  wintry  gales.  The  foliage  predomi- 
nates at  the  tree  top ; the  stems  (especially  of  the 
spruces)  throw  out  a profusion  of  spikes  and  dead 
branchlets  from  the  base  upwards.  Unhealthy  situa- 
tions, such  as  cold  swamps,  are  marked  by  the  utmost 
confusion.  Everywhere,  and  at  every  variety  of  angle, 
trees  lean  and  creak  against  their  comrades,  drawing  a 
few  more  years  of  existence  through  their  support.  The 
foot  is  being  perpetually  lifted  to  stride  over  dead  stems, 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


sometimes  so  intricately  interwoven  that  the  traveller 
becomes  fairly  pounded  for  the  nonce. 

This  tangled  appearance,  however,  is  an  attribute  of 
the  spruce  woods ; there  is  a much  more  orderly  arrange- 
ment under  the  hemlocks.  These  grand  old  trees  seem 
to  bury  their  dead  decently,  and  long  hillocks  in  the 
mossy  carpet  alone  mark  their  ancestors’  graves,  which 
are  generally  further  adorned  by  the  evergreen  tresses 
of  the  creeping  partridge-berry,  or  the  still  more  delicate 
festoons  of  the  capillaire. 

The  busy  occupation  of  all  available  space  in  the 
American  forest  by  a great  variety  of  shrubs  and  herba- 
ceous plants,  constitutes  one  of  its  principal  charms — the 
multitudes  of  blossoms  and  delicate  verdure  arising  from 
the  sea  of  moss  to  greet  our  eyes  in  spring,  little  maple 
or  birch  seedlings  starting  up  from  prostrate  trunks  or 
crannies  of  rock  boulders,  with  wood  violets,  and  a host 
of  the  spring  flora.  The  latter,  otherwise  rough  and 
shapeless  objects,  are  thus  invested  with  a most  pleasing 
appearance — transformed  into  the  natural  flower  vases  of 
the  woods.  The  abundance  of  the  fern  tribe,  again,  lends 
much  g]*ace  to  the  woodland  scenery.  In  the  swamp  the 
cinnamon  fern,  0.  cinnamomea,  with  0.  interrupta,  attain 
a luxuriant  growth ; and  the  forest  brook  is  often  almost 
concealed  by  rank  bushes  of  royal  fern  (0.  regalis). 
Eocks  in  woods  are  always  topped  with  pol}^odium, 
whilst  the  delicate  fronds  of  tlie  oak  fern  hang  from  their 
sides.  Filix  foemina  and  F.  mas  are  common  every- 
where, and,  with  many  others  of  the  list,  present  appa- 
rently inappreciable  diflerences  to  their  European  repre- 
sentatives. 

There  is  a beauty  peculiar  to  this  interesting  order 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


27 


especially  pleasing  to  the  eye  when  studying  details  of 
a landscape  in  which  the  various  forms  of  vegetation 
form  the  leading  features.  The  luxuriant  mosses  and 
great  lichens  which  cover  or  cling  to  everything  in  the 
forest  act  a similar  part.  Even  the  dismal  black  swamps 
are  somewhat  enlivened  by  the  long  beards  of  the  Usnea; 
fallen  trees  are  often  made  quite  brilliant  by  a profusion 
of  scarlet  cups  of  Cladonia  gracilis. 

But  now  let  us  examine  further  into  the  specific  cha- 
racter of  at  least  some  of  the  individuals  of  which  the 
forest  is  composed.  As  we  wander  on  we  chance,  perhaps, 
to  stumble  upon  what  is  called,  in  woodsman’s  parlance, 
a ‘‘  blazed  line  ” — a broad  chip  has  been  cut  from  the  side 
of  a tree,  and  the  white  surface  of  the  inner  wood  at  once 
catches  the  eye  of  the  watchful  traveller ; a few  paces 
farther  on  some  saplings  have  been  cut,  and,  keeping  the 
direction,  we  perceive  in  the  distance  another  blazed  mark 
on  a trunk.  It  may  be  a path  leading  from  the  settle- 
ment to  some  distant  woodland  meadow  of  wild  grass,  or 
a line  marking  granted  property,  or  it  may  lead  to  a lot 
of  timber  trees  marked  for  the  destructive  axe  of  the  lum- 
berer— perhaps  a grove  of  White  Pine.  This  is  the  great 
object  of  the  lumberer  s search.  Ascending  a tree  from 
which  an  extensive  view  of  the  wild  country  is  commanded, 
he  marks  the  tall  overbearing  summits  of  some  distant  pine 
grove  (for  this  tree  is  singularly  gregarious,  and  is  gene- 
rally found  growing  in  family  groups),  and  having  taken 
its  bearings  with  a compass,  descends,  and  with  liis  com- 
rades proceeds  on  his  errand  of  destruction.  In  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  coast,  or  on  barren  soil,  the  pine  is 
a stunted  bushy  tree,  its  branches  feathering  nearly  to  the 
ground ; but  the  pine  of  the  forest  ascends  as  a straight 


28 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


tower  to  the  height  of  some  120  feet,  two  or  three  mas- 
sive branches  being  thrown  out  in  twisted  and  fantastic 
attitudes.  As  if  aware  of  its  proud  position  as  monarch 
of  the  forest,  it  is  often  found  on  the  summit  of  a preci- 
pice ; and  these  conspicuous  positions,  which  it  seems  to 
prefer,  have  doomed  this  noble  specimen  of  the  cone- 
bearing evergreens  to  ultimate  extermination  as  certain 
as  that  of  the  red  man  or  the  larger  game  of  this  conti- 
nent. Some  half-century  since,  the  pine  was  found  on 
the  margins  of  all  the  large  lakes  and  streams,  but  of  late 
the  axe  and  devastating  fires  have,  as  it  were,  driven  the 
tree  far  back  into  the  remoter  solitudes  of  the  forest,  and 
long  and  expensive  expeditions  must  be  undertaken  ere 
the  head-quarters  of  a gang  of  lumber-men  can  be  fixed 
upon  for  a winter  employment.  At  the  head  waters  of 
some  insignificant  brook,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
good  timber,  these  hardy  sons  of  the  forest  fell  the  trees, 
and  cut  and  square  them  into  logs,  dragging  them  to  the 
edge  of  the  stream,  into  whose  swollen  waters  they  are 
rolled  at  the  breaking  up  of  winter  and  melting  of  the 
snow,  to  find  their  way  through  almost  endless  difficulties 
to  the  sea.  That  most  useful  animal  in  the  woods,  the 
ox,  accompanies  the  lumberers  to  their  remote  forest 
camps,  and  drags  the  logs  to  the  side  of  the  stream.  It 
is  really  wonderful  to  watch  these  animals,  well  managed, 
performing  their  laborious  tasks  in  the  forest : urged  on 
and  directed  solely  by  the  encouraging  voice  of  the  team- 
ster, the  honest  team  drag  the  huge  pine-log  over  the 
rough  inequalities  of  the  ground,  over  rocks,  and  through 
treacherous  swamps  and  thickets,  with  almost  unaccount- 
able ease  and  safety,  where  the  horse  would  at  once  be- 
come confused,  frightened,  and  injured,  besides  failing  on 


TFIE  LUMRERKR’S  CAMP  IN’  WINTER 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


29 


the  score  of  comparative  strength.  Slowly  but  surely 
the  ox  performs  incredible  feats  of  draught  in  the  woods, 
and  asks  for  no  more  care  than  the  shelter  of  a rough 
shed  near  the  lumberers’  camp,  with  a store  of  coarse  wild 
hay,  and  a drink  at  the  neighbouring  brook. 

This  aristocrat  of  the  forest,  Finns  strobus,  refuses  to 
grow  in  the  black  swamp  or  open  bog,  which  it  leaves  to 
poverty-stricken  spruces  and  larches,  nor  in  its  communi- 
ties will  it  tolerate  much  undergrowth.  Pine  woods  are 
peculiarly  open  and  easy  to  traverse.  Bracken,  and  but 
little  else,  grows  beneath,  and  the  foot  treads  noiselessly 
on  a soft  slippery  surface  of  fallen  tassels.  A peculiarly 
soft  subdued  light  pervades  these  groves — a ray  here  and 
there  falling  on  the  white  blossoms  of  the  pigeon  berry 
(Cornus  Canadensis)  in  summer,  or,  later,  on  its  bright 
scarlet  clusters  of  berries,  sets  frequent  sparkling  gems  in 
our  path.  That  beautiful  forest  music  termed  soughing 
in  Scotland,  in  reference  to  the  sound  of  the  wind 
passing  over  the  foliage  of  the  Scotch  fir,  is  heard  to  per- 
fection amongst  the  American  pines. 

The  white  pine,  according  to  Sir  J.  Kichardson,  ranges 
as  far  to  the  north  ward  as  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Wini- 
peg.  “ Even  in  its  northern  termination,”  he  says,  it  is 
still  a stately  tree.” 

The  Hemlock,  or  Hemlock  Spruce  (Abies  Canadensis 
of  Michaux),  is  a common  tree  in  the  woodlands  of 
Acadie,  affecting  moist  mossy  slopes  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  lakes,  though  generally  mixing  with  other  ever- 
greens in  all  situations.  It  is  found,  however,  of  largest 
growth  (80  feet),  and  growing  in  large  groves,  principally 
in  the  former  localities,  where  it  vies  with  the  white  pine 
in  its  solid  proportions.  The  deeply  grained  columnar 


30 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


trunk  throws  off  its  first  branches  some  50  feet  above  the 
ground,  and  the  light  feathery  foliage  clings  round  the 
summit  of  an  old  tree  in  dense  masses,  from  which  pro- 
trude the  bare  twisted  limbs  which  abruptly  terminate 
the  column. 

Perched  high  up  in  its  branches  may  be  often  seen  in 
winter  the  sluggish  porcupine,  Avhose  presence  aloft  is 
first  detected  by  the  keen  eye  of  the  Indian  through  the 
scratches  made  by  its  claws  on  the  trunk  in  ascending  its 
favourite  tree  to  feed  on  the  bark  and  leaves  of  the 
younger  shoots. 

Large  groves  of  hemlock  growing  on  woodland  slopes 
present  a noble  appearance ; their  tall  columns  never 
bend  before  the  gale.  There  is  a general  absence  of 
undergrowth,  thus  afibrding  long  vistas  through  the 
shady  grove  of  giants  ; and  the  softened  light  invests  the 
interior  of  these  vast  forest  cathedrals  with  an  air  of 
solemn  mystery,  whilst  the  even  spread  of  their  mossy 
carpet  affords  appreciable  relief  to  the  footsore  hunter. 
The  human  voice  sounds  as  if  confined  within  spacious 
and  lofty  halls. 

Hawthorne,  describing  the  wooded  solitudes  in  which 
he  loved  to  wander,  thus  speaks  of  a grove  of  these 
trees  : — “ These  ancient  hemlocks  are  rich  in  many  things 
beside  birds.  Indeed,  their  wealth  in  this  respect  is 
owing  mainly,  no  doubt,  to  their  rank  vegetable  growths, 
their  fruitful  swamps,  and  their  dark,  sheltered  retreats. 

“ Their  history  is  of  an  heroic  cast.  Lavished  and 
torn  by  the  tanner  in  his  thirst  for  bark,  preyed  upon  by 
the  lumberman,  assaulted  and  beaten  back  by  the  settler, 
still  their  spirit  has  never  been  broken,  their  energies 
never  paralysed.  Not  many  years  ago  a public  highway 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


31 


passed  through  them,  but  it  was  at  no  time  a tolerable 
road ; trees  fell  across  it,  mud  and  limbs  choked  it  up, 
till  finally  travellers  took  the  hint  and  went  around  ; and 
now,  walking  along  its  deserted  course,  1 see  only  the 
footprints  of  coons,  foxes,  and  squirrels. 

Nature  loves  such  woods,  and  places  her  own  seal 
upon  them.  Plere  she  shows  me  what  can  be  done  with 
ferns  and  mosses  and  lichens.  The  soil  is  marrowy  and 
full  of  innumerable  forests.  Standing  in  these  fragrant 
aisles,  I feel  the  strength  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  and 
am  awed  by  the  deep  and  inscrutable  processes  of  life 
going  on  so  silently  about  me. 

“No  hostile  forms  with  axe  or  spud  now  visit  these 
solitudes.  The  cows  have  half-hidden  ways  through 
them,  and  know  where  the  best  browsing  is  to  be  had. 
In  spring  the  farmer  repairs  to  their  bordering  of  maples 
to  make  sugar  ; in  July  and  August  women  and  boys 
from  all  the  country  about  penetrate  the  old  Barkpeeling 
for  raspberries  and  blackberries ; and  I know  a youth 
who  wonderingly  follows  their  languid  stream  casting  for 
trout. 

“ In  like  spirit,  alert  and  buoyant,  on  this  bright  June 
morning  go  I also  to  reap  my  harvest, — pursuing  a sweet 
more  delectable  than  sugar,  fruit  more  savoury  than  ber- 
ries, and  game  for  another  palate  than  that  tickled  by 
trout."  ^ 

Hemlock  bark,  possessing  highly  astringent  properties, 
is  much  used  in  America  for  tanning  purposes,  almost 

* There  is  no  mistaking  the  authorship  of  this  passage  from  the  note- 
books of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne.  It  is  not  embodied  in  the  recently 
published  English  edition  of  his  notes  ; I found  it  in  a contribution  of  his 
to  an  American  periodical  many  years  since,  and  preserved  it  as  a gem. 


32 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


entirely  superseding  that  of  the  oak.  Its  surface  is  very 
rough  Avith  deep  grooves  betAveen  the  scales.  Of  a light 
pearly  gray  outside,  it  shoAvs  a madder  broAvn  tint  Avhen 
chipped.  The  sojourner  in  the  Avoods  seeks  the  dry  and 
easily  detached  bark  AAdiich  clings  to  an  old  dead  hem- 
lock as  a great  auxiliary  to  his  stock  of  fuel  for  the  camp 
fire ; it  burns  readily  and  long,  emitting  an  intense  heat, 
and  so  fond  are  the  old  Indians  of  sitting  round  a small 
conical  pile  of  the  ignited  bark  in  their  AAugAvams,  that 
it  bears  in  their  language  the  sobriquet  of  “ the  old 
Grannie.” 

The  hemlock,  as  a shrub,  is  perhaps  the  most  orna- 
mental of  all  the  North  American  evergreens.  It  has 
none  of  that  tight,  stiff,  old-fashioned  appearance  so  gene- 
rally seen  in  other  spruces  : the  graceful  foliage  droops 
loosely  and  irregularly,  hiding  the  stem,  and,  Avhen  each 
spray  is  tipped  Avith  the  neAV  seasons  shoot  of  the 
brightest  sea-green  imaginable,  the  appearance  is  very 
beautiful.  The  young  cones  are  likeAvise  of  a delicate 
green. 

This  tree  has  a AAude  range  in  the  coniferous  AAmod- 
lands  of  North  America,  extending  from  the  Hudson’s 
Bay  territory  to  the  mountains  of  Georgia.  The  great 
southerly  extension  of  the  northern  forms  of  trees  on  the 
south-east  coast,  is  due  to  the  direction  of  the  Alleoha- 
nian  range,  AAdiich,  commencing  in  our  oAAm  province  of 
A^egetation,  carries  its  flora  as  far  south  as  35  degrees 
north  latitude,  elevation  affording  the  same  conditions  of 
groAvth  as  distance  from  the  equator. 

It  AA^ould  appear  that  this  giant  spruce  has  no  analo- 
gous form  in  the  Old  World  as  have  others  of  the  genus 
Abies  found  in  the  NeAv.  All  the  genera  of  conifers. 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


33 


however,  here  contain  a larger  number  of  trees,  which 
though  they  are  exceedingly  similar  in  general  appear- 
ance, are  specifically  distinct  from  their  European  con- 
geners. 

Under  the  Arctic  circle,  as  pointed  out  by  Sir  J. 
Richardson,  and  beyond  the  limits  of  tree  growth,  but 
little  appreciable  difference  exists  in  circumpolar  vegeta- 
tion, and  so  we  recognise  in  the  luxuriant  cryptogamous 
flora  of  the  forests  we  are  describing  most  of  the  mosses 
and  lichens  found  across  the  Atlantic,  which  here  attain 
such  a noticeable  development.  As  with  nobler  forms, 
America,  however,  adds  many  new  species  to  the 
list. 

The  Black  Spruce  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  and 
characteristic  forest  trees  of  North-Eastern  America, 
forming  a large  portion  of  the  coniferous  forest  growth, 
and  found  in  almost  every  variety  of  circumstance. 
Sometimes  it  appears  in  mixed  woods,  of  beautiful 
growth  and  of  great  height,  its  numerous  branclu',s 
drooping  in  graceful  curves  from  the  apex  towards 
the  ground,  which  they  sweep  to  a distance  of  twenty 
to  thirty  feet  from  the  stem,  whilst  the  summit  ter- 
minates in  a dense  arrow  head,  on  the  short  sprays 
of  which  are  crowded  heavy  masses  of  cones.  At 
others,  it  is  found  almost  the  sole  growth,  covering 
large  tracts  of  country,  the  trees  standing  thick,  with 
straight  clean  stems  and  but  little  foliage  except 
at  the  summit.  Then  there  is  the  black  spruce  swamp, 
where  the  tree  shows  by  its  contortions,  its  unhealthy 
foliage,  and  its  stem  and  limbs  shaggy  with  usnea, 
the  hardships  of  its  existence.  Again  on  the  open 
bog  grows  the  black  spruce,  scarcely  higher  than  a cab- 


34 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


bage  sprout  * — the  light  olive-green  foliage  living  on 
the  compressed  summit  only,  whilst  the  grey  dead  twigs 
below  are  crowded  with  pendulous  moss  ; yet  even  here, 
amidst  the  cold  sphagnum,  Indian  cups,  and  cotton  grass, 
the  tree  lives  to  an  age  which  would  have  given  it  a 
proud  position  in  the  dry  forest.  Lastly,  in  the  fissure  of 
a granite  boulder  may  be  seen  its  hardy  seedling  ; and 
the  little  plant  has  a far  better  chance  of  becoming  a tree 
than  its  brethren  in  the  swamp ; for,  one  day,  as  frost  and 
increasing  soil  open  the  fissure,  its  roots  will  creep  out  and 
fasten  in  the  earth  beneath. 

In  unhealthy  situations  a singular  appearance  is  fre- 
quently assumed  by  this  tree.  Stunted,  of  course,  it 
throws  out  its  arms  in  the  most  tortuous  shapes,  sud- 
denly terminating  in  a deuse  mass  of  innumerable 
branchlets  of  a rounded  contour  like  a beehive,  display- 
ing short,  thick,  light  green  foliage.  The  summit  of 
the  tree  generally  terminates  in  another  bunch.  The 
stem  and  arms  are  profusely  covered  with  hchens  and 
usnea.  As  a valuable  timber  tree  the  black  spruce  ranks 
next  to  the  pine,  attaining  a height  of  seventy  to  a hun- 
dred feet.  Being  strong  and  elastic,  it  forms  excellent 
material  for  spars  and  masts,  and  is  converted  into  all 
descriptions  of  sawed  lumber — deals,  boards,  and  scant- 
lings. From  its  young  sprays  is  prepared  the  decoction, 

* Indeed  these  miniature  trees  in  hogs  where  the  sphagnum  perpetually 
hathes  their  roots  with  chilling  moisture,  have  a very  similar  appearance  to 
Brussels  sjuouts  on  a large  scale.  The  water  held  in  the  moss  is  always 
cold  : on  May  5th,  1866,  the  tussacs  of  sphagnum  were  frozen  solidly 
within  two  or  three  inches  of  the  surface.  The  centre  of  these  hogs,  often 
called  cariboo  hogs  hy  reason  of  this  deer  frequenting  them  in  search  of 
the  lichen,  Cladonia  rangiferinus,  is  generally  quite  hare  of  spruce  clumps, 
which  fringe  the  edge  of  the  surrounding  forest,  the  trees  increasing  in 
height  as  they  recede  from  the  open  hog. 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


35 


fermented  with  molasses,  the  celebrated  spruce  beer  of  the 
American  settler,  a cask  of  which  every  good  farmer’s  wife 
keeps  in  the  hot,  thirsty  days  of  haymaking.  To  the 
Indian,  the  roots  of  this  tree,  which  shoot  out  to  a great 
distance  immediately  under  the  moss,  are  his  rope,  string 
and  thread.  With  them  he  ties  his  bundle,  fastens  the 
birch-bark  coverings  to  the  poles  of  his  wigwam,  or  sews 
the  broad  sheets  of  the  same  material  over  the  ashen  ribs 
of  his  canoe. 

For  ornamental  purposes  in  the  open  and  cultivated 
glebe  the  black  spruce  is  very  appropriate.  The  nume- 
rous and  gracefully  curved  branches,  the  regular  and 
acute  cone  shape  of  the  mass,  its  clear  purplish-grey 
stem,  and  the  beautiful  bloom  with  which  its  abundant 
cones  are  tinged  in  June,  all  enhance  the  picturesqueness 
of  a tree  which  is  long-lived,  and,  moreover,  never  out- 
grows its  ornamental  appearance,  unless  confined  in 
dense  woodland  swamps. 

The  bark  of  the  black  spruce  is  scaly,  of  various  shades 
of  purplish-grey,  sometimes  approaching  to  a reddish  hue, 
hence,  doubtless,  suggesting  a variety  under  the  name  of 
red  spruce,  which  is  in  reality  a form  depending  on  situa- 
tion. In  the  latter,  the  foliage  being  frequently  of  a 
lighter  tinge  of  green,  strengthens  the  supposition.  No 
specific  differences  have,  however,  been  detected  between 
the  trees. 

The  White  Spruce  or  Sea  Spruce  of  the  Indians  (Abies 
alba,  Mich.)  is  a conifer  of  an  essentially  boreal  character. 
Indeed  in  its  extension  into  our  own  woodlands  it  ap- 
pears to  prefer  bleak  and  exposed  situations.  It  thrives 
on  our  rugged  Atlantic  shores,  and  grows  on  exj)osed 
and  brine-washed  sands  where  no  other  vegetation  ap- 


36 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


pears,  and  hence  is  very  useful,  both  as  a shelter  to  the 
land,  and  as  holding  it  against  the  encroachment  of  the 
sea.  Its  dark  glaucous  foliage  assumes  an  almost  impene- 
trable aspect  under  these  circumstances.  I have  seen 
groves  of  white  spruce  on  the  shore,  the  foliage  of  which 
was  swept  back  over  the  land  by  prevailing  gales  from 
the  south-west,  nearly  parallel  to  the  ground,  and  so 
compressed  and  flattened  at  the  top  that  a man  could 
walk  on  them  as  on  a platform,  whilst  the  shelter  be- 
neath was  complete. 

The  Balsam  Fir  growing  in  these  situations  assumes  a 
very  similar  appearance  in  the  density  and  colour  of  its 
foliage  and  trunk  to  the  white  spruce,  from  which,  how- 
ever, it  can  be  quickly  distinguished,  on  inspection,  by 
the  pustules  on  the  bark  and  its  erect  cones.  In  the 
forest  the  white  spruce  is  rare  in  comparison  with  the 
black,  whose  place  it  however  altogether  usurps  on  the 
sand  hiUs  bordering  the  limit  of  vegetation  in  the  far 
north-west.  The  former  tree  prefers  humid  and  rocky 
woods. 

Our  Silver  Fir  (Abies  balsamea,  Marshall)  is  so  like  the 
European  picea  that  they  would  pass  for  the  same 
species  were  it  not  for  the  balsam  pustules  which  charac- 
terise the  American  tree.  Both  show  the  same  silvery 
lines  under  the  leaf  on  each  side  of  the  mid-rib,  which, 
glistening  in  the  sun  as  the  branches  are  blown  upwards 
by  the  Avind,  give  the  tree  its  name.  We  find  it  in  moist 
woods — growing  occasionally  in  the  provinces  to  a height 
of  sixty  feet  where  it  has  plenty  of  room — a handsome, 
dark-foliaged  tree  ; short-lived,  however,  and  often  falling 
before  a heavy  gale,  showing  a rotten  heart. 

The  silver  fir  is  remarkable  for  the  horizontal  regularity 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


37 


of  its  brandies,  and  the  general  exact  conical  formation 
of  the  whole  tree.  An  irregularity  in  the  growth  of  the 
foliage,  similar  to  that  occurring  in  the  black  spruce,  is 
frequently  to  be  found  in  the  fir.  A contorted  branch, 
generally  half-way  up  the  stem,  terminates  in  a multi- 
tude of  interlaced  sprays  which  are,  every  summer, 
clothed  with  very  delicate,  flaccid,  light- green  leaves, 
forming  a beehive  shape  like  that  of  the  sjiruce.  It  may 
be  noticed,  however,  that  whilst  this  bunch  foliage  is 
perennial  in  the  case  of  the  latter  tree,  that  of  the  fir  is 
annually  deciduous.  Up  to  a certain  age  the  silver  fir  in 
the  forest  is  a graceful  shrub.  Its  flat  delicate  sprays 
form  the  best  bedding  for  the  woodman's  couch ; the 
fragrance  of  its  branches,  when  long  cut  or  exposed  to 
the  sun,  is  delicious,  and  their  soft  elasticity  is  most 
grateful  to  the  limbs  of  the  wearied  hunter  on  his  return 
to  camp.  The  bark  of  the  larger  trees,  peeling  readily 
in  summer,  is  used  in  sheets  to  cover  the  lumberer’s  shanty, 
which  he  now  takes  the  opportunity  to  build  in  prospect 
of  the  winter’s  campaign. 

The  large,  erect,  sessile  cones  of  the  balsam  fir  are  very 
beautiful  in  the  end  of  May,  when  they  are  of  a light 
sea-green  colour,  which,  changing  in  June  to  pale  laven- 
der, in  August  assumes  a dark  slaty  tint.  They  ripen  in 
the  fall ; and  the  scale  being  easily  detached,  the  seeds 
are  soon  scattered  by  the  autumnal  gales,  leaving  the 
axis  bare  and  persistent  on  the  branch  for  many  years. 
In  June  each  strobile  is  surmounted  with  a large  mass  of 
balsam  exudation. 

A casual  observer,  on  passing  the  edges  of  the  forest, 
cannot  help  remarking  the  brown  appearance  of  the 
spruce  tops  in  some  seasons  when  the  cones  are  unusually 


38 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


abundant.  They  are  crowded  together  in  bushels,  and 
often  kill  the  upper  part  of  the  tree  and  its  leading,  shoot, 
after  which  a new  leader  appears  to  be  elected  amongst 
the  nearest  tier  of  branchlets  to  continue  the  upward 
growth.  From  such  a crop  the  Indians  augur  an  un- 
usually hard  winter,  through  much  the  same  process  of 
reasoning  as  that  which  the  English  countryman  adopts 
in  prophesying  a rigorous  season  from  an  abundant  crop 
of  haws  and  other  autumnal  hedge  fruits,  and  generally 
with  about  the  same  chance  of  fulfilment. 

No  less  majestic  than  the  coniferm  are  many  of  the 
species  of  deciduous  trees,  or  ''hard  woods,''  which,  inter- 
mingled with  the  former,  impart  such  a pleasing  aspect 
to  the  otherwise  gloomy  fir  forests  of  British  North 
America.  Growing,  as  the  firs,  with  tall  straight  stems, 
and  struggling  upwards  for  the  influence  of  the  sunlight 
on  their  lofty  foliage,  the  yellow  and  black  birches  aspire 
to  the  greatest  elevation,  attaining  a height  of  seventy  or 
eighty  feet.  Mixed  with  these  are  beeches  and  elms ; 
and  in  many  districts  the  country  is  covered  with  an 
almost  exclusive  growth  of  the  useful  rock  or  sugar- 
maple. 

In  these  " mixed  woods,"  as  they  are  locally  termed 
(indicative,  it  is  said,  of  a good  soil),  the  prettiest  con- 
trast is  afforded  by  the  pure  white  stems  of  the  canoe 
birch  (B(tula  papyracea)  against  the  spruce  boughs ; and, 
as  these  are  generally  open  woods,  the  latter  come  sweep- 
ing down  to  the  ground.  The  young  stems  of  the  yellow 
bfich  (B.  excelsa)  gleam  like  gilded  rods  in  sunlight ; 
their  shining  yellow  bark  looks  as  though  it  had  been 
fresh  coated  with  varnish. 

These  American  birches  are  a beautiful  family  of  trees. 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


39 


particularly  tlie  canoe  or  paper  birch,  so  called  from  the 
readiness  with  which  its  folds  of  bark  will  separate  from 
the  stem  like  thick  sheets  of  paper. . Smooth  and  round, 
without  a knot  or  branch  for  some  forty  feet  from  the 
ground,  is  the  tree  which  the  Indian  anxiously  looks  for; 
it  affords  him  the  broad  sheets  of  bark  which  cover  his 
wigwam  and  the  frame  of  his  canoe,  and  long  journeys 
does  he  often  undertake  in  search  of  it.  The  bark  is 
thick  as  leather,  and  as  pliable,  and  in  the  summer  can 
readily  be  separated  for  any  distance  up  the  stem.  From 
it  the  Indians  make  the  boxes  and  curiosities,  by  the  sale 
of  which  these  poor  creatures  endeavour  to  earn  a liveli- 
hood. Their  fanciful  goods  cannot,  however,  compete 
with  the  useful  productions  of  civilised  labour,  and  are 
only  bought  by  the  stranger  and  the  charitable.  The 
white  birch  of  the  forest  is  as  closely  connected  with  the 
interests  of  the  Indian  as  the  pine  is  with  those  of  the 
lumberer,  and  the  former  dreads  the  ultimate  comparative 
scarcity  of  the  birch  as  the  latter  does  that  of  the  noble 
timber-tree. 

From  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  on  the  south-east, 
this  important  tree  ranges  northwardly  in  Atlantic 
America  far  into  the  interior  of  Labrador,  whilst  in  the 
extreme  north-west  it  ascends  the  valley  of  the  Mackenzie 
as  far  as  69  degrees  N.  lat. 

In  travelliug  the  forest  in  summer  it  is  quite  refreshing 
to  enter  the  bright  sheen  of  a birch-covered  hill,  exchanof- 
ing  the  close  resinous  atmosphere  of  heated  fir-woods  for 
its  cool  open  vaults.  The  transition  is  often  quite  sudden 
— the  scene  changing  from  gloom  to  brightness  with  a 
magical  effect.  Such  a contrast  is  presented  to  the 
marked  lights  and  shades  of  the  pine  forest ! The  silvery 


4( 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


stems  with  their  light  canopy  of  sunlit  leaves,  through 
the  breaks  in  which  the  blue  sky  shows  quite  dark  as  a 
Imckground,  the  innumerable  lights  falling  on  the  light 
green  undergrowth  of  plants  and  shrubs  beneath,  and  the 
general  absence  of  appreciable  lines  of  shadow  every- 
where, stamp  these  hard- wood  hills  with  an  almost  fairy- 
land appearance. 

If  at  all  near  the  l)orders  of  civilisation,  we  soon  strike 
a hauling  road,^^  leading  from  such  localities  into  the 
settlements — a track  broad  enough  for  a sled  and  pair  of 
oxen  to  pass  over  when  the  farmer  comes  in  winter  to 
transport  his  firewood  over  the  snow.  And  a goodly 
stock  indeed  he  requires  to  battle  with  the  cold  of  a 
Korth  American  winter  in  the  backwoods ; logs,  such  as 
it  would  take  two  men  to  lift,  of  birch,  beech  or  maple, 
are  piled  on  his  ample  hearth ; the  abundance  of  fuel 
and  the  readiness  with  which  he  can  bring  it  from  the 
neighbouring  bush,  is  one  of  his  greatest  blessings.  He 
deserves  a few  comforts,  for  perhaps  his  lifetime,  and  that 
of  his  father,  has  been  spent  in  redeeming  the  few  acres 
round  the  dwelling  from  the  fangs  of  gigantic  stumps 
and  boulders  of  rock.  A patch  of  potatoes,  an  acre  or 
So  of  buckwheat,  and  another  of  oats,  and  a few  rough- 
looking cattle,  are  his  sources  of  wealth,  or  perhaps  a 
rough  saw  mill,  constructed  far  up  in  the  forest  brook, 
ard  the  whirr  of  whose  circular  saw  disturbs  only  the 
wild  animals  of  the  surrounding  woods. 

How  vividly  is  recalled  to  my  memory  the  delight 
ex})erienced  on  many  occasions  by  our  tired,  belated 
2)arty,  returning  from  a hunting  camp  through  unknown 
woods,  on  finding  one  of  these  logging  roads,  anticipating 
ir  advance  the  kindly  welcome  of  the  invariably  hospit- 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


41 


able  backwoods  farmer,  towards  whose  clearings  it  was 
sure  to  trend.  Perhaps  for  hours  before  we  had  almost 
despaired  of  quitting  the  forest  by  nightfall.  On  sending 
the  Indians  into  tree-tops  to  reconnoitre,  the  disheartening 
cry  would  be,  “ Woods  all  round  as  far  as  we  can  see.’' 
Further  on,  perhaps,  Ave  should  hear  that  there  were 
‘‘Lakes  all  round  I”  Worse  again,  for  then  a wearisome 
detour  must  be  made.  But  at  last  some  one  finds  signs 
of  chopping,  then  a stack  of  cord-Avood,  and  then  we 
strike  a regular  blazed  line.  Now  the  spirits  of  every 
one  revive,  and  we  soon  emerge  on  the  forest  road  AAuth 
its  clean-cut  track,  corduroy  platforms  through  swamps, 
and  rude  log  bridges  over  the  brooks,  which  brings  us 
within  the  welcome  sound  of  cattle  bells,  and  at  length 
to  the  broad  glare  of  the  clearings. 

o o 

Before  leaving  the  woods,  however,  we  may  not  omit 
to  notice  those  characteristic  trees  of  the  American  forest, 
the  maples,  particularly  that  most  important  member  of 
the  family,  the  rock  or  sugar  maple — Acer  saccharinum. 
Found  generally  interspersed  with  other  hard- wood  trees, 
this  tree  is  seen  of  largest  and  most  frequent- growth  in 
the  Acadian  forests  on  the  slopes  of  the  Cobequid  hills, 
and  other  similar  ranges  in  Nova  Scotia,  often  growing 
together  in  large  clumps.  Such  groves  are  termed 
“ Sugaries,”  and  are  yearly  visited  by  the  settlers  for 
the  plentiful  supply  of  sap  which,  in  the  early  spring, 
courses  between  the  bark  and  the  Avood,  and  from  which 
the  maple  sugar  is  extracted.  Towards  the  end  of 
March,  wheu  winter  is  relaxing  its  hold,  and  the  hitherto 
frozen  trees  begin  to  feel  the  influence  of  the  sun,  the 
settlers,  old  and  young,  turn  into  the  woods  with  their 
axes,  sap-troughs,  and  boilers,  and  commence  the  opera- 


42 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


tion  of  sugar-making.  A fine  young  maple  is  selected ; 
an  oblique  incision  made  by  two  strokes  of  the  axe  at  a 
few  feet  from  the  ground,  and  the  pent-up  sap  im- 
mediately begins  to  trickle  and  drop  from  the  wound. 
A wooden  spout  is  driven  in,  and  the  trough  placed 
underneath  ; next  morning  a bucketful  of  clear  sweet 
sap  is  removed  and  taken  to  the  boiling-house.  Some- 
times two  or  three  hundred  trees  are  tapped  at  a time, 
and  require  the  attention  of  a large  party  of  men.  At 
the  camp,  the  sap  is  carefully  boiled  and  evaporated 
until  it  attains  the  consistency  of  syrujD.  At  this  stage 
much  of  it  is  used  by  the  settlers  under  the  name  of 

maple  honey,  or  molasses.’'  Further  boiling ; and  on 
pouring  small  quantities  on  to'  pieces  of  ice,  it  sud- 
denly cools  and  contracts,  and  in  this  stage  is  called 
“ maple- wax,”  wdiich  is  much  prized  as  a sweetmeat. 
Just  beyond  this  point  the  remaining  sap  is  poured 
into  moulds,  in  which  as  it  cools  it  forms  the  solid 
saccharine  mass  termed  “ maple  sugar.”  Sugar  may  also 
be  obtained,  though  inferior  in  quality,  from  the  various 
birches ; but  the  sap  of  these  trees  is  slightly  acidulous, 
and  is  more  often  converted  into  vinegar. 

White  or  soft  maple  (A.  dasycarpum),  and  the  red 
flowering  maple  (A.  rubrum),  are  equally  common  trees. 
Both  contribute  largely  to  the  gorgeous  colouring  of  the 
fall,  and  the  latter  species  clothes  its  leafless  sprays  in 
the  spring  almost  as  brilliantly  with  scarlet  blossoms. 
Before  these  fade,  a circlet  of  light  green  leaves  appears 
below,  when  a terminal  shoot  has  a fitting  place  in  an 
ornamental  bouquet  of  spring  flowers. 

As  a rule,  all  the  Aceraceae  are  noted  for  breadth  of 
leaf,  and,  being  even  more  abundant  than  the  birches  in 


THE  FORESTS  OF  ACADIE. 


43 


the  forests  of  Acadie,  the  solid  appearance  of  the  rolling 
hard-wood  hills  is  thus  accounted  for.  These  great 
swelling  billows  in  a sea  of  verdure  form  the  grandest 
feature  of  American  forest  scenery.  In  Vermont  and 
New  Hampshire,  to  the  westward  of  our  provinces,  they 
become  perfectly  tempestuous.  The  black  arrow-heads 
of  the  spruces,  or  the  slanting  tops  of  the  pines,  pierce 
through  them  distinctly  enough,  but  the  summits  of  the 
hard- woods  are  blended  together  in  one  vast  canopy  of 
light  green  foliage,  in  which  the  eye  vainly  seeks  to  trace 
individual  form. 

Amongst  the  varieties  of  scenery  presented  by  our 
wild  districts,  I would  notice  the  burnt  barrens.  These 
sometimes  extend  for  many  miles,  and  are  most  dreary  in 
their  appearance  and  painfully  tedious  to  travel  through. 
Years  ago,  perhaps,  some  fierce  fire  has  run  through  the 
evergreen  forest,  and  its  ravages  are  now  shown  in  the 
spectacle  before  us.  Gaunt  white  stems  stand  in  groups, 
presenting  a most  ghost-like  appearance,  and  pointing 
with  their  bleached  branches  at  the  prostrate  remains  of 
their  companions,  which,  strewed  and  mixed  with  matted 
bushes  and  briars,  lie  beneath,  rendering  progress  almost 
impossible  to  the  hunter  or  traveller. 

In  granitic  districts,  where  the  scanty  soil — the  result 
of  ages  of  cryptogamous  vegetation  and  decay — has  been 
clean  licked  up  by  the  fire,  even  the  energetic  power  of 
American  vegetation  appears  utterly  prostrated  for  a 
period,  as  if  hopeless  of  again  assimilating  the  desert  to 
the  standard  of  surrounding  features. 

As  a contrast  to  such  a scene,  and  in  conclusion  to 
our  dissertation  on  the  forests,  turn  we  to  the  smiling 
intervale  scenery  of  her  alluvial  valleys,  for  which 


44 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


Acadie  is  so  famous.  Many  of  the  rivers,  coursing 
smoothly  through  long  tracts  of  the  country,  are  broadly 
margined  by  level  meadows  with  rich  soils,  productive 
of  excellent  pasture.  The  banks  are  adorned  with  orange 
lilies ; and  the  meadows,  which  extend  between  the 
water  and  the  uplands,  shaded  by  clumps  of  elm  (Ulmus 
americana). 

Almost  the  whole  charm  of  these  inteiA^ales  (in  an 
artistic  point  of  \dew)  is  due  to  the  groups  of  this 
graceful  tree,  by  which  they  are  adorned.  Its  stem, 
soon  forkinof  and  diversfino:  like  that  of  the  Encrlish  horn- 
beam,  nevertheless  carries  the  main  bulk  of  the  foliage 
to  a good  elevation,  the  ends  of  the  middle  and  lower 
branches  bending  gracefully  dovmwards.  The  latter  often 
hang  for  several  yards,  quite  perpendicularly,  with,  most 
delicate  hair-like  branchlets  and  small  leaves.  We  have 
but  one  elm  in  this  part  of  America ; yet  no  one  at  first 
sight  would  ever  connect  the  taU  trunk  and  twisted  top 
branches  of  the  forest-growing  tree  with  the  elegant 
form  of  the  dweller  in  the  pasture  lands. 

Whether  from  appreciation  of  its  beauty,  or  in  view  of 
the  shade  afforded  their  cattle,  which  always  congregate 
in  warm  weather  under  its  pendulous  branches,  the 
settlers  agree  in  sparing  the  elm  growing  in  such  situa- 
tions. 

These  long  fertile  valleys  are  further  adorned  by 
cojises  of  alders,  dogwood,  and  willows — favourite  haunts 
of  the  American  woodcock,  which  here  alone  finds 
subsistence,  the  earth-wonn  being  never  met  with  in  the 
forest. 


ELMS  IN  AN  INTERVALE. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  WORLDS. 


THE  MOOSE. 

{Alee,  Hamilton  Smith  ; Alee  Americanus,  Jardine.) 

Muzzle  very  broad,  produced,  covered  with  hair,  except  a small,  moist, 
naked  spot  in  front  of  the  nostrils.  Neck  short  and  thick  ; hair  thick 
and  brittle  ; throat  rather  maned  in  both  sexes  ; hind  legs  have  the 
tuft  of  hair  rather  above  the  middle  of  the  metatarsus  ; the  males 
have  palmate  horns.  The  nose  cavity  in  the  skull  is  very  large, 
reaching  behind  to  a line  over  the  front  of  the  grinders  ; the  inter- 
maxillaries  are  very  long,  but  do  not  reach  to  the  nasal.  The  nasals 
a re  very  short. 

In  the  foregoing  diagnosis,  taken  from  ‘^Gray  sKnowsley 
Menagerie,”  are  summed  up  the  principal  characteristics 
of  the  elk  in  the  Old  and  New  Worlds.  In  colour  alone 
the  American  moose  presents  an  unimportant  difference 
to  the  Swedish  elk,  being  much  darker ; its  coat  at  the 
close  of  summer  quite  black,  when  the  males  are  in  their 
prime.  The  European  animal  varies  according  to  season 
from  brown  to  dark  mouse-grey.  In  old  bulls  of  the 
American  variety  the  coat  is  inclined  to  assume  a grizzly 
hue.  The  extremities  only  of  the  hairs  are  black ; to- 
wards the  centre  they  become  of  a light  ashy-grey, 
and  hnally,  towards  the  roots,  dull  white — the  diffe- 
rence of  colour  in  the  hair  of  the  two  varieties  thus 


46 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


being  quite  superficial.  The  males  have  a fleshy  appen- 
dage to  the  throat,  termed  the  bell,  from  which  and  the 
contiguous  parts  of  the  throat  long  black  hair  grows 
profusely.  A long,  erect  mane  surmounts  the  neck 
from  the  base  of  the  skull  to  the  withers.  Its  bristles 
are  of  a lighter  colour  than  those  of  the  coat,  and 
partake  of  a reddish  hue.  At  the  base  of  the  hair 
the  neck  and  shoulders  are  covered  with  a quantity  of 
very  fine  soft  wool,  curled  and  interwoven  with  the  hair. 
Of  this  down  warm  gloves  of  an  extraordinarily  soft 
texture  are  woven  by  the  Indians. 

Moose  hair  is  very  brittle  and  inelastic.  Towards  its 
junction  with  the  skin  it  becomes  wav}q  the  barrel  of 
each  hair  suddenly  contracting  like  the  handle  of  an  oar 
just  before  it  enters  the  skin.*'' 

Gilbert  White,  speaking  of  a female  moose  deer  which 
he  had  inspected,  says  : “ The  grand  distinction  between 
this  deer  and  any  other  species  that  I have  ever  met 
with  consisted  in  the  strange  length  of  its  legs,  on  which 
it  was  tilted  up,  much  in  the  manner  of  birds  of  the 
grallae  order.”  This  length  of  limb  is  due,  according  to 
Professor  Owen,  “to  the  peculiar  length  of  the  cannon 
bones  (metacarpi  and  metatarsi).” 

The  other  noticeable  peculiarities  of  the  elk  are  the 

* In  “ Anatomical  Descriptions  of  Several  Creatures  Dissected  "by  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Sciences  at  Paris,  by  Alexander  Pitfield,  F.R.S.,  1688,” 
the  above  peculiarity  is  thus  described  : — “ The  hair  was  three  inches  long, 
and  its  bigness  equalled  that  of  the  coarsest  horsehair ; this  bigness  grew 
lesser  towards  the  extremity,  which  was  pointed  aU  at  once,  making,  as  it 
were,  the  handle  of  a lance.  This  handle  was  of  another  colour  than  the 
rest  of  the  hair,  being  diaphanous  like  the  bristles  of  a hog.  It  seems  that 
this  part,  which  was  finer  and  more  flexible  than  the  rest  of  the  hair,  was 
so  made  to  the  end,  that  the  hair  which  was  elsewhere  ver}^  hard  might 
keep  close  and  not  stand  on  end.  This  hair,  cut  through  the  middle, 
appeared  in  the  microscope  spongy  on  the  inside,  like  a rush.” 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  17 


great  length  of  the  head  and  ear,  and  the  muscular 
development  of  the  upper  lip  ; the  movements  of  which, 
directed  by  four  powerful  muscles  arising  from  the  maxil- 
laries,  prove  its  fitness  as  a prehensile  organ.  In  form  it 
has  been  said  to  be  intermediate  between  the  snout  of 
the  horse  and  of  the  tapir.  I am  indebted  to  Mr.  Buck- 
land  for  the  following  description  of  a skull,  which  had 
been  forwarded  to  him  from  Nova  Scotia  ; — 

“ This  splendid  skull  weighs  ten  pounds  eleven  ounces, 
and  is  twenty-four  inches  and  a-half  in  length.  The 
inter-maxillary  bones  are  very  much  prolonged,  to  give 
attachment  to  the  great  muscle  or  upper  prehensile  lip, 
and  the  foramen  in  the  bone  for  the  nerve,  which 
supplies  the  ‘ muffle ' with  sensation,  is  very  large.  I 
can  almost  get  my  little  finger  into  it.  The  ethmoid 
bone,  upon  which  the  nerves  of  smelling  ramify  them- 
selves, is  very  much  developed.  No  wonder  the  hunter 
has  such  difficulty  in  getting  near  a beast  whose  nose 
will  telegraph  the  signal  of  ' danger  ’ to  the  brain,  even 
when  the  danger  is  a long  way  off,  and  the  ‘ walking 
danger,^  if  I have  read  the  habits  of  North  American 
Indians,  is  in  itself  of  a highly  odoriferous  character.  The 
cavities  for  the  eyes  are  wide  and  deep.  I should  say  the 
moose  has  great  mobility  of  the  eye.  The  cavity  for  the 
peculiar  gland  in  front  of  the  eye  is  greatly  scooped  out. 
The  process  at  the  back  of  the  head  for  the  attachment 
of  the  ligamentum  nuchae — the  elastic  ligament  which, 
like  an  india-rubber  spring,  supports  the  weight  of  the 
massive  head  and  ponderous  horns  without  fatigue  to  the 
owner,  is  much  developed.  The  enamel  on  the  molar 
teeth  forms  islands  with  the  dentine  somewhat  like  tlie 
pattern  of  the  tooth  of  the  common  cow.” 


48 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  height  of  the  elk  at  the  withers  but  little  exceeds 
that  at  the  buttock  ; the  back  consequently  has  not  that 
slope  to  the  rear  so  often  misrepresented  in  drawings  of 
the  animal.  The  appearance  of  extra  height  forwards  is 
given  by  the  mane,  which  stands  out  from  the  ridge  of 
the  neck,  something  like  the  bristles  of  an  inverted 
hearth-broom.  The  ears,  which  are  considerably  over  a 
foot  in  length  in  the  adult  animal,  are  of  a light  brown, 
with  a narrow  marginal  dark-brown  rim  ; the  cavity  is 
filled  with  thick  whitish-yeUow  hair.  The  naked  skin 
fringing  the  orbit  of  the  eye  is  a dull  pink ; the  eye  itself 
of  a dark  sepia  colour.  Under  the  orbit  there  is  an  arc 
of  very  dark  hair.  The  lashes  of  the  upper  lid  are  full, 
and  rather  over  an  inch  in  length.  A large  specimen 
will  measure  six  feet  six  inches  in  height  at  the  shoulder  ; 
length  of  head  from  occiput  to  point  of  muffle,  following 
the  curve,  thirty-one  inches ; from  occiput  to  top  of 
withers  in  a straight  line,  twenty-nine  inches  ; and  from 
the  last  point  horizontally  to  a vertical  tangent  of  the 
buttocks,  fifty-two  inches.  A large  number  of  measure- 
ments in  my  possession,  for  the  accuracy  of  which  I can 
vouch,  show  much  variation  of  the  length  of  back  in 
proportion  to  the  height,  thus  probably  accounting  for  a 
commonly  received  opinion  amongst  the  white  settlers  of 
the  backwoods  that  there  are  two  varieties  of  the  moose. 


THE  PAST  HISTORY  OF  THE  ELK. 

The  study  of  northern  zoology  ]3resents  a variety  of 
considerations  interesting  both  to  the  student  of  recent 
nature  and  to  the  pala3ontologist.  Taking  as  well  known 


THE  ALCINE  DEEE  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  49 


instances  the  reindeer  and  musk-ox”,  there  are  forms  yet 
inhabiting  the  arctic  and  sub-arctic  ’regions  which  may 
be  justly  regarded  as  the  remains  of  an  ancient  fauna 
which  once  comprised  many  species  now  long  since 
extinct,  and  which  with  those  already  named,  occupied  a 
far  greater  southerly  extent  of  each  of  the  continents 
converging  on  the  pole  than  would  be  possible  under  the 
present  climatal  conditions  of  the  world.  With  those 
great  types  which  have  entirely  disappeared  before  man 
had  recorded  their  existence  in  the  pages  of  history,  in- 
cluding the  mammoth  (Elephas  primigenius),  the  most 
abundant  of  the  fossil  pachyderms,  whose  bones  so  crowd 
the  beaches  and  islands  of  the  Polar  Sea  that  in  parts  the 
soil  seems  altogether  composed  of  them,  the  Khinoceros 
tichorinus,  and  others,  were  associated  genera,  a few 
species  of  which  lived  on  ’ into  the  historic  period,  and 
have  since  become  extinct,  whilst  others,  occupying 
restricted  territory,  are  apparently  on  the  verge  of  dis- 
appearance. All  the  species  of  European  pliocene 
bovidse  came  down  to  the  historical  period,''  states  Pro- 
fessor Owen  in  his  British  Fossil  Mammals,"  and  the 
aurochs  and  musk-ox  still  exist ; but  the  one  owes  its 
preservation  to  special  imperial  protection,  and  the  other 
has  been  driven,  like  the  reindeer,  to  high  northern  lati- 
tudes." Well  authenticated  as  is  the  occurrence  of  the 
rangifer  as  a fossil  deer  of  the  upper  tertiaries,  the 
evidence  of  its  association  in  ages  so  remote,  with  Cervus 
Alces,  has  been  somewhat  a matter  of  doubt.  The  elk 
and  the  reindeer  have  always  been  associated  in  descrip- 
tions of  the  zoology  of  high  latitudes  by  modern  natural- 
ists, as  they  were  when  the  boreal  climate,  coniferous 
forests,  and  mossy  bogs  of  ancient  Gaul  brought  them 


50 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


under  notice  of  tlie  classic  pens  of  Coesar,  Pausanias,  and 
Pliny.  And  there  is  a something  in  common  to  both  of 
these  sino-ular  deer  T\diich  would  seem  to  connect  them 

O 

equally  with  the  period  when  they  and  the  gigantic 
contemporary  genera  now  extinct  roamed  over  so  large 
a portion  of  the  earth’s  surface  in  the  north  temperate 
zone,  where  the  fir-tree — itself  geologically  typical  of  a 
great  antiquity — constituted  a predominant  vegetation. 

The  presence  of  the  remains  of  Cervus  Alces  in  associa- 
tion with  those  of  the  mammoth,  the  great  fossil  musk-ox 
(Ovibos),  the  fossil  reindeer,  and  two  forms  of  bison  in 
the  fossiliferous  ice-cliffs  of  Eschscholtz  Bay,  as  described 
by  Sir  John  Eichardson,  would  seem  to  be  an  almost 
decisive  proof  of  its  existence  at  a time  Avhen  the  tempe- 
rature on  the  shores  of  the  Polar  Sea  was  sufficiently 
genial  to  allow  of  a vegetation  affording  browse  and 
cover  to  the  great  herds  of  mammals  which  have  left 
their  bones  there,  with  buried,  fossilised  trees,  attesting 
the  presence  of  a forest  at  a latitude  now  unapproached 
save  by  shrubs,  such  as  the  dwarf  birch,  and  by  that  only 
at  a considerable  distance  to  the  south.  The  elk  of  the 
present  day,  as  we  understand  his  habits,  unlike  the 
musk-ox  and  reindeer,  for  which  lichens  and  scanty 
grasses  in  the  valleys  of  the  barren  grounds  under  the 
Polar  circle  afford  a sufficient  sustenance,  is  almost 
exclusively  a wood- eater,  and  could  not  have  lived  at 
the  locality  aljove  indicated  under  the  present  physical 
aspects  of  the  coasts  of  Arctic  America,  any  more  than 
the  herds  of  buffaloes,  horses,  oxen  and  sheep,  whose 
remains  are  mentioned  by  Admiral  Von  AVrangell  as 
having  been  found  in  the  greatest  profusion  in  the 
interior  of  the  islands  of  Xevf  Siberia,  associated  witli 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  51 

mammoth  bones,  could  now  exist  in  that  icy  wilderness. 
On  these  grounds  a high  antiquity  is  claimed  for  the 
sub-genus  Alces,  probably  as  great  as  that  of  the  rein- 
deer. 

As  a British  fossil  mammal,  the  true  elk  has  not  yet 
been  described,  though  for  a long  time  the  remains  of 
the  now  well-defined  sub-genus  Megaceros  were  ascribed 
to  the  former  animal.  There  is  a statement,  however,  in 
a recent  volume  of  the  Zoologist  to  the  effect  that  the 
painting  of  a deer  s head  and  horns,  which  were  dug  out 
of  a marl  pit  in  Forfarshire,  and  presented  to  the  Koyal 
Society  of  Edinburgh,  is  referable  to  neither  the  fallow, 
red,  nor  extinct  Irish  deer,  but  to  the  elk,  which  may  be 
therefore  regarded  as  having  once  inhabited  Scotland. 
The  only  recorded  instance  of  its  occurrence  in  England 
is  the  discovery,  a few  years  since,  of  a single  horn  at  the 
bottom  of  a bog  on  the  Tyne.  It  was  found  lying  on, 
not  in,  the  drift,  and  therefore  can  be  only  regarded  as 
recent. 

Passing  on  to  prehistoric  times,  when  the  remains  of 
the  species  found  in  connexion  with  human  implements 
prove  its  subserviency  as  an  article  of  food  to  the  hunters 
of  old,  we  find  the  bones  of  Cervus  Alces  in  the  Swiss 
lake  dwellings,  and  the  refuse-heaps  of  that  age ; whilst 
in  a recent  work  on  travel  in  Palestine  by  the  Pev.  H. 
B.  Tristram,  we  have  evidence  of  the  great  and  ancient 
fauna  which  then  overspread  temperate  Europe  and  Asia 
having  had  a yet  more  southerly  extension,  for  he  dis- 
covers a limestone  cavern  in  the  Lebanon,  near  Beyrout, 
containing  a breccious  deposit  teeming  with  the  debris  of 
the  feasts  of  prehistoric  man — flint  chippings,  evidently 
used  as  knives,  mixed  with  bones  in  fragments  and  teeth, 


52 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


assignable  to  red  or  reindeer,  a bison,  and  an  elk.  If,’^ 
says  the  author,  as  Mr.  Dawkins  considers,  these  teeth 
are  referable  to  those  now  exclusively  northern  quadrupeds, 
we  have  evidence  of  the  reindeer  and  elk  having  been 
the  food  of  man  in  the  Lebanon  not  long  before  the 
historic  period ; for  there  is  no  necessity  to  put  back  to 
any  date  of  immeasurable  antiquity  the  deposition  of 
these  remains  in  a limestone  cavern.  And,’^  he  adds, 
with  significant  reference  to  the  great  extension  of  the 
ancient  zoological  province  of  which  we  are  speaking, 
there  is  nothing  more  extraordinary  in  this  occurrence 
than  in  the  discovery  of  the  bones  of  the  tailless  hare  of 
Siberia  in  the  breccias  of  Sardinia  and  Corsica.'*' 

The  first  allusion  to  the  elk  in  the  pages  of  history  is 
made  by  Caesar  in  the  sixth  book  ‘‘  De  Bello  Gallico  " — 
'‘sunt  item  quce  a'p'pellantiiv  Alces”  etc.  etc.,  a descrip- 
tion of  an  animal  inhabiting  the  great  Hercynian  forest 
of  ancient  Germany,  in  common  with  some  other  remark- 
able ferae,  also  mentioned,  which  can  refer  to  no  other, 
the  name  being  evidently  Latinised  from  the  old  Teutonic 
cognomen  of  elg,  elch,  or  aelg,  whence  also  our  own  term 
elk.  He  speaks  of  the  forest  as  commencing  near  the 
territories  of  the  Helvetii,  and  extendinof  eastward  aloim 
the  Danube  to  the  country  inhabited  by  the  Dacians. 

Under  this  general  name,"  says  Dr.  Smith,  “ Caesar 
appears  to  have  included  all  the  mountains  and  forests 
in  the  south  and  centre  of  Germany,  the  Black  Forest, 
Odenwald,  Thllringenwald,  the  Hartz,  the  Erzgebirge,  the 
Riesengebirge,  etc.,  etc.  As  the  Romans  became  better 
acquainted  with  Germany,  the  name  was  confined  to 
narrower  limits.  Pliny  and  Tacitus  use  it  to  indicate 
the  range  of  mountains  between  the  Thtlruigenwald  and 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  53 


the  Carpathians.  The  name  is  still  preserved  in  the 
modern  Harz  and  Erz.^^  Gronovius  states  that  the 
German  word  was  Hirtsenwald,  or  forest  of  stags.  In 
an  old  translation  of  the  Commentaries  I find  the  word 
“alces^'  rendered  ‘^a  kind. of  wild  asses/ ^ and  really  a 
better  term  could  hardly  be  applied,  had  the  writer, 
unacquainted  with  the  animal,  caught  a passing  glimpse 
of  an  elk,  especially  of  a young  one  without  horns.  But 
it  is  evident  that  Cmsar  alludes  to  a large  species  of  deer, 
and,  although  he  compares  them  to  goats  (it  is  nearly 
certain  that  the  original  word  was.  ‘‘  capreis,’'  caprea 
being  a kind  of  wild  goat  or  roebuck),  and  received  from 
his  informants  the  story  of  their  being  jointless — an 
attribute,  in  those  days  of  popular  errors  and  super- 
stitions, ascribed  to  other  animals  as  well — the  very  fact 
of  their  being  hunted,  in  the  manner  described,  by 
weakening  trees,  so  that  the  animal  leaning  against  them 
would  break  them  down,  involving  his  own  fall,  proves 
that  the  alee  was  a creature  of  ponderous  bulk. 

The  descriptive  paragraph  alluded  to  contains  one  of 
the  fallacies  which  have  always  been  attached  to  the 
natural  history  of  the  elk,  ancient  and  modern ; and, 
even  now-a-days  the  singular  appearance  of  the  animal 
attempting  to  browse  on  a low  shrub  close  to  the  ground, 
his  legs  not  bent  at  the  joint,  but  straddling  stiffly  as  he 
endeavours  to  cull  the  morsel  with  his  long,  prehensile 
upper  lip,  might  impart  to  the  ignorant  observer  the  idea 
that  the  stilt-like  legs  were  jointless.  The  fabrication  of 
their  being  hunted  in  the  way  described  was,  of  course, 
based  on  the  popular  error  as  to  the  formation  of  their 
limbs.  Alutilceque  sunt  cornibus’^  may  imply  that 
Cmsar,  or  more  likely  some  of  his  men,  had  either  seen  a 


54 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


female  elk,  or — as  miglit  be  more  acceptably  inferred — a 
male  whicli  had  lost  one  horn,  and  consequently  late  in 
the  autumn,  as  it  is  well  known  that  the  horns  are  not 
shed  simultaneously.  Pausanias  speaks  of  the  elk  as 
intermediate  between  the  stag  and  the  camel,  as  a most 
sagacious  animal,  and  capable  of  distingmishing  the  odour 
of  a human  being  at  a great  distance,  taken  by  hunters 
in  the  same  manner  as  is  now  pursued  in  the  “skalP^  of 
north  Europe,  and  as  being  indigenous  to  the  country  of 
the  Celtae ; Avhilst  Pliny  declares  it  to  be  a native  of 
Scandinavia,  and  states  that  at  his  time  it  had  not  been 
exhibited  at  the  Eoman  games.  At  a later  period  the 
animal  became  better  Imown,  for  Julius  Capitolinus 
speaks  of  elks  being  shown  by  Gordian,  and  Vopiscus 
mentions  that  Aurelian  exhibited  the  rare  spectacle  of  the 
elk,  the  tiger,  and  the  giraffe,  when  he  triumphed  over 
Zenobia. 

In  these  few  notices  is  summed  up  aU  that  has  been 
preserved  of  what  may  be  termed  the  ancient  history  of 
the  European  elk.  An  interesting  reflection  is  suggested 
as  to  what  were  the  physical  features  of  central  Europe  in 
those  days.  It  seems  evident  that  ancient  France,  then 
called  Gaul,  was  a region  of  alternate  forests  and 
morasses  in  which  besides  the  red  and  the  roe,  the  rein- 
deer abounded,  if  not  the  elk ; that  in  crossing  the  Alps, 
a vast,  continuous  forest,  commencing  on  the  confines  of 
modern  Switzerland,  occupied  the  valleys  and  slopes  of 
the  Alps,  from  the  som’ces  of  the  Ehine  to  .an  eastern 
boundary  indicated  by  the  Carpathian  mountains,  and 
embraced,  as  far  as  its  northern  extension  was  known, 
the  plateau  of  Bohemia.  Strange  and  fierce  animals, 
hitherto  unknown  to  the  Eomans — accustomed  as  they 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  55 


liad  been  to  seeing  menageries  of  creatures  brought  from 
other  climes,  dragged  in  processions  and  into  the  arena 
— were  found  in  these  forests.  The  urus  or  wild  bull, 
now  long  extinct,  “ in  size,^^  says  Csesar,  ‘‘little  less  than 
the  elephant,  and  which  spares  neither  man  nor  beast 
when  they  have  been  presented  to  his  view.”  The  savage 
aurochs  yet  preserved  in  a Lithuanian  forest,  the  elk  and 
the  reindeer  were  their  denizens,  and  formed  the  beef  and 
venison  on  which  the  fierce  German  hunters  of  old  sub- 
sisted. “ The  hunting  of  that  day  ” may  be  well  imagined 
to  have  been  very  different  to  the  most  exciting  of 
modern  field  sports,  and  continued  down  to  the  thirteenth 
century,  as  is  shown  by  the  well-known  passage  from  the 
Niebelungen  poem,  where  the  hero,  Sifrid,  slays  some  of 
the  great  herbivorse — the  bison,  the  elk,  and  the  urus — 
as  well  as  “ einen  grimmen  Schelch,”  about  the  identity 
of  which  so  much  doubt  has  arisen,  though  the  conjecture 
has  been  offered  by  Goldfuss,  Major  Hamilton  Smith, 
and  others,  that  the  name  refers  to  no  other  than  the 
great  Irish  elk  or  megaceros. 

The  recent  notices  of  the  elk  contained  in  some  curious 
old  works  on  the  countries  of  northern  Europe  and  their 
natural  history  are  valuable  merely  as  indicating  the 
presence  and  range  of  the  animal  in  certain  regions.  The 
errors  and  extravagances  of  the  classic  naturalists  still 
obtained,  and  tinged  all  such  writings  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  great  epoch  of  modern  natural  history 
ushered  in  by  St.  Hilaire  and  Cuvier.  A confused 
account  of  the  animal  is  given  by  Scaliger,  and  it  is 
mentioned  by  Gmelin  in  his  Asiatic  travels.  Glaus 
Magnus,  the  Swedish  bishop,  says,  “ The  elks  come  from 
the  north,  where  the  inhabitants  call  them  elg  or  elges.” 


56 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Scheffer,  in  his  histoiy  of  Lapland,  published  in  1701, 
speaks  of  that  conntiy  ''  as  not  containing  many  elks,  but 
that  they  rather  pass  thither  out  of  Lithuania.”  Other 
craters  mention  it,  but,  whenever  a scientific  description 
is  attempted  it  is  full  of  credulous  errors,  such  as  its 
liability  to  epileptic  fits — a belief  entertained  not  only 
by  the  peasants  of  northern  Europe,  but  like^vise, 
with  regard  to  the  moose,  by  the  North  American 
Indians  ; its  attempt  to  relieve  itself  of  the  disease  by 
opening  a vein  behind  the  ear  with  the  hind  foot,  whence 
pieces  of  the  hoof  were  worn  by  the  peasants  as  a pre- 
ventive against  falhng  sickness  : and  its  being  obliged  to 
browse  backwards  through  the  upper  lip  becoming  en- 
tangled with  the  teeth.  ^ There  are  also  ample  notices 
of  the  elk  in  the  works  of  Pontoppidan  and  Nilsson ; 
Albertus  Magnus  and  Gesner  state  that  in  the  twelfth 
century  it  was  met  with  in  Sclavonia  and  Hungary.  The 
former  writer  calls  it  the  equicervus  or  horse  hart.  In 
1658  Edward  Topsel  published  his  ‘‘History  of  Four- 
footed  Beasts  and  Serpents  : to  be  procured  at  the  Bible, 
on  Ludgate-hill,  and  at  the  Key,  in  Paul’s  Churchyard.” 
At  page  165  he  treats  of  the  elk  : “ They  are  not  found 
but  in  the  colder  northern  regions,  as  Eussia,  Prussia, 
Hungaria,  and  Illpia,  in  the  wood ; Hercynia,  and 
among  the  Borussian  Scythians,  but  most  plentiful  in 
Scandina\fia,  which  Pausanias  calleth  the  Celtes.” 

• Mr.  Buckland,  referring  to  tlie  above  statement  in  “ Land  and  "Water,” 
says  : — “ Of  course  some  2)art  of  the  elk  was  used  medicinally.  Our 
ancestors  managed  to  get  a ‘ihll  et  liaustus’  out  of  all  things,  from 
vipers  up  to  the  moss  in  human  skulls.  The  Phanuacoixeia  of  the  day 
prescribes  a j^ortion  of  the  hoof  worn  in  a ring  ; ‘ it  resisteth  and  freeth 
from  the  falling  evil,  the  cramp,  and  cureth  the  tits  or  jiangs.’  Fancy  an 
hysterical  lady  being  told  to  take  ‘elk’s  hoof’  for  a week,  to  be  followed 
by  ‘ hart’s  horn.’  ” 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  57 

The  accounts  given  by  the  earlier  American  voyagers 
of  Cervus  Alces — there  found  under  the  titles  of  moose 
(Indian)  or  V original  (French) — were  also  highly  exag- 
gerated ; though,  considering  that  they  received  their 
descriptions  from  the  Indians,  who  to  this  day  believe  in 
many  romantic  traditions  concerning  the  animal,  they 
are  excusable  enough.  From  the  writings  of  Josselyn,'''' 
Denys,  Charlevoix,  Le  Hontan,  and  others,  little  can  be 
learnt  of  the  natural  history  of  the  moose.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  they  represented  it  as  being  ten  or  twelve  feet 
in  height,  with  monstrous  antlers,  stalking  through  the 
forest  and  browsing  on  the  foliage  at  an  astonishing 
elevation.  It  was  consequently  long  believed  that  the 
American  animal  was  much  larger  fhan  his  European 
congener  ; and  when  the  gigantic  horns  of  the  Megaceros 
were  first  ascribed  to  an  elk,  it  was  to  the  former  that 
they  were  referred  by  Dr.  Molyneux. 


DECENT  NATUDAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  SPECIES. 

Commencing  its  modern  history,  let  us  now  briefly 
trace  the  limits  within  which  the  elk  is  found  in  Europe, 
Asia,  and — regarding  the  moose  as  at  least  congeneric — 
America.  It  is  to  the  sportsmen  and  naturalists  who 

* “ The  moose  or  elke  is  a creature,  or  rather,  if  you  will,  a monster  of 
superfluity  ; a full  grown  moose  is  many  times  bigger  than  an  English 
oxe  ; their  horns,  as  I have  said  elsewhere,  very  big  and  brancht  out  into 
palms,  the  tops  whereof  are  sometimes  found  to  Ijc  two  fathoms  asunder 
(a  fathom  is  six  feet  from  the  tip  of  one  finger  to  the  tip  of  tlie  other,  that 
is  four  cubits),  and  in  height  from  the  toe  of  the  fore  feet  to  the  2)itch  of 
the  shoulder  twelve  foot,  both  of  which  hath  been  taken  by  some  of  my 
sceiitique  readers  to  be  monstrous  lies.” — Josselyn’s  Voifarjes  to  New  Enrjlaml, 
pub.  1674. 


58 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


have  receutly  written  on  the  field  sports  of  the  Scandina- 
vian Peninsula  that  we  are  indebted  for  nearly  all  onr 
information  on  the  natural  history  of  this  animal,  and  its 
geographical  distribution  in  northern  Europe.  The  works 
of  ^lessrs.  Lloyd  and  Barnard  contain  ample  notices. 

At  the  present  day,''  says  the  latter  author,  ''  it  is  found 
in  Sweden,  south  of  the  pro^dnce  of  East  Gothland. 
Angermannland  is  its  northernmost  houndaiy."  The  late 
Mr.  Wheelwright,  in  “ Ten  Years  in  Sweden,"  which  con- 
tains an  admirable  synopsis  of  the  fauna  and  flora  of  that 
country,  places  the  limits  of  the  elk  in  Scandina^da 
between  58°  North  lat.  and  64°.  Mr.  Barnard  states  that 
“ it  likewise  inhabits  Finland,  Lithuania,  and  Eussia, 
from  the  White  Sea  to  the  Caucasus.  It  is  also  found  m 
the  forests  of  Siberia  to  the  Elver  Lena,  and  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood’ of  the  Altai  mountains."  Yon  YYangel  met 
with  the  elk — thouMi  becomino’  scarce,  throuMi  excessive 
hunting  and  the  desolation  of  the  forest  by  fire — in  the 
Kolymsk  district,  in  the  almost  extreme  north-east  of 
Siberia.  Erman,  another  eminent  scientific  traveller  in 
Siberia,  describes  it  as  abundant  in  the  splendid  pine 
forests  which  skirt  the  Obi,  and  mentions  it  on  several 
occasions  in  the  narrative  of  his  journey  eastward  through 
the  heart  of  the  country  to  Okhotsk.  It  has  been  recently 
noticed  amongst  the  mammalia  of  Amoorland,  and  as 
principally  inhabiting  the  country  round  the  lower 
Amoor.  It  is  thus  seen  that  the  domains  of  the  elk 
in  the  Eastern  Hemisphere  are  immensely  extensive, 
lying  between  the  Arctic  Circle — indeed,  approaching  tlie 
Arctic  Ocean,  where  the  great  rivers  induce  a northern 
extension  of  the  wooded  region — and  the  fiftieth  parallel 
of  north  latitude,  from  which,  however,  as  it  meets 


THE  ALCTNE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEVv^  WORLDS.  59 


greater  civilisation  in  the  western  portion  of  the  Eussian 
empire,  it  recedes  towards  the  sixtieth. 

In  the  New  World,  it  would  appear  from  old  narra- 
tives that  the  moose  (as  we  must  unfortunately  continue 
to  call  the  elk,  whose  proper  title  lias  been  misappro- 
priated to  Cervus  canadensis)  once  extended  as  far  south 
as  the  Ohio.  Later  accounts  represent  its  southern  limit 
on  the  Atlantic  coast  to  be  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  the  coun- 
tries bordering  which — Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick, 
and  the  State  of  Maine — appear  to  be  the  most  favourite 
abode  of  the  moose  ; for  nowhere  in  the  nortliern  and 
western  extension  of  the  North  American  forest  do  we 
find  this  animal  so  numerous  as  in  these  districts.  Absent 
from  the  islands  of  Prince  Edward,  Anticosti,  and  New- 
foundland, it  is  found  on  the  Atlantic  sea-board,  and  to 
the  north  of  New  Brunswick,  in  the  province  of  Gaspe ; 
across  the  St.  Lawrence,  not  further  to  the  eastward 
than  the  Saguenay,  though  it  was  met  with  formerly  on 
the  Labrador  as  far  as  the  river  Godbout.  The  absence 
of  the  moose  in  Newfoundland  appears  unaccountable ; 
for,  although  a large  portion  of  this  great  island  is  com- 
j)osed  of  open  moss-covered  plateaux  and  broad  savannahs 
— favourite  resorts  of  the  cariboo  or  American  reindeer—* 
yet  it  contains  tracts  of  forest,  principally  coniferous, 
of  considerable  extent,-  in  which  birch,  willow,  and 
swamp-maple  are  sufficiently  abundant  to  afford  an 
ample  subsistence  to  the  former  animal,  which  is  stated 
by  Sir  J.  Eichardson  to  ascend  the  rivers  in  the  north- 
west of  America  nearly  to  the  Arctic  Circle — as  far,  in 
fact,  as  the  wdllows  grow  on  the  banks. 

Assuming  that  the  moose  is  still  found  in  New  Hamp- 
shire and  Vermont,  where  it  exists,  according  to  Audubon 


60 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


and  Baclimaii,  at  long  intervals,  ^ve  liiay  therefore  define 
its  limits  on  the  eastern  coasts  of  North  America  as  lying 
Ijetween  43°  30’'  and  the  fiftieth  parallel  of  latitude. 

In  following  the  lines  of  limitation  of  the  species 
across  the  continent,  we  perceive  an  easy  guide  in  con- 
sidering its  natural  vegetation.  As  regards  the  general 
features  of  the  forests  which  the  moose  affects,  we  find 
them  principally  characterised  by  the  presence  of  the  fir 
tribe  and  their  associations  of  damp  swamps  and  soft 
open  bogs,  provided  that  they  are  sufficiently  removed 
from  the  region  of  perpetual  ground-frost  to  allow  of  the 
requisite  growth  of  deciduous  shrubs  and  trees  on  which 
the  animal  subsists.  The  best  indication,  therefore,  of 
the  dispersion  of  the  moose  through  the  interior  of  the 
continent  is  afforded  by  tracing  the  development  of  the 
forest  southwards  from  the  northern  limit  of  the  growth 
of  trees. 

The  North  American  forest  has  its  most  arctic  exten- 
sion in  the  north-west,  where  it  is  almost  altogether 
composed  of  white  spruce  (Abies  alba),  a conifer  which, 
when  met  with  in  far  more  genial  latitudes,  appears  to 
prefer  bleak  and  exposed  situations.  Several  species  of 
Salix  fringe  the  river  banks,  and  feeding  on  these  we  first 
find  the  moose,  even  on  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea, 
where  Franklin  states  it  to  have  been  seen  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Mackenzie,  in  latitude  69°.  Further  to  the  east- 
ward Richardson  assigns  65°  as  the  highest  limit  of  its 
range  ; and  in  this  direction  it  follows  the  general  course 
of  the  coniferous  forest  in  its  rapid  recession  from  the 
arctic  circle,  determined  by  the  line  of  perpetual  ground- 
frost,  which  comes  down  on  the  Atlantic  sea-board  to  the 
fifty-ninth  parallel,  cutting  oft'  a large  section  of  Labra- 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  G1 

dor.  To  the  northward  of  this  line  are  the  treeless  wastes, 
termed  barren-grounds,  the  territory  of  the  small  arctic 
cariboo. 

The  monotonous  character  and  paucity  of  species  of 
the  everofreen  forest  in  its  southern  extension  continues 
until  the  valley  of  the  Saskatchewan  is  reached,  where 
some  new  ty23es  of  deciduous  trees  appear — balsam- 
poplar,  and  maple — forming  a great  addition  to  the 
hitherto  scanty  fare  of  the  moose.  Here,  however,  the 
forest  is  divided  into  two  streams  by  the  north-western 
corner  of  the  great  prairies — the  one  following  the  slopes 
of  the  Eocky  Mountains,  whilst  the  other  edges  the  plains 
to  the  south  of  Winipeg  and  the  Canadian  lakes.  In  the 
former  district,  and  west  of  the  mountains,  the  Columbia 
river  is  assio'ned  as  the  limit  of  the  moose.  On  the  other 

O 

course  the  animal  appears  to  be  co-occupant  with  the 
wapiti,  or  prairie  elk,  of  the  numerous  spurs  of  forest 
which  jut  out  into  the  plains,  and  of  the  isolated  patches 
locally  termed  moose-woods.  Constantly  receiving  acces- 
sion of  species  in  its  south-westerly  extension,  the  Cana- 
dian forest  is  fully  developed  at  Lake  Superior,  and  there 
exhibits  that  pleasing  admixture  of  deciduous  trees  with 
the  nobler  conifers — the  white  pine  and  the  hemlock 
spruce — which  conduces  to  its  peculiarly  beautiful  as- 
pect. This  large  tract  of  forest,  which,  embracing  the 
great  lakes  and  the  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  stretches 
away  to  the  Atlantic  sea-board,  and  covers  the  provinces 
of  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia,  and  Prince  Edward’s 
Island,  including  a large  portion  of  the  Northern  States, 
has  been  termed  by  Dr.  Cooper,  in  his  excellent  mono- 
graph on  the  North  American  forest-trees,  the  Lacustrian 
Province,  from  the  number  of  its  great  lakes  ; it  is  chiefly 


62 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


cliaracterisecl  by  the  predominance  of  evergreen  coniferae. 
It  was  all  at  one  time  plentifully  occupied  by  the  moose, 
which  is  now  but  just  frequent  enough  in  its  almost 
inaccessible  retreats  in  the  Adirondack  hiUs  to  be  classed 
amongst  the  quadrupeds  of  the  State  of  New  York. 
The  rang;e  of  the  animal  across  the  continent  is  thus 
indicated,  and  its  association  with  the  physical  features 
of  the  American  forest.  As  before  remarked,  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Bay  of  Fundy  appears  to  be  its  present 
most  favoured  habitat ; and  it  seems  to  rejoice  especially 
in  the  low-lying,  swampy  woods,  and  innumerable  lakes 
and  river-basins  of  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick. 

The  scientific  diagnosis  of  the  Alcine  groups  (Hamilton 
Smith)  having  been  detailed  already,  we  pass  on  to 
describe  the  habits  of  the  American  nioose~the  result 
of  a long  period  of  personal  observation  in  the  localities 
last  mentioned.  First,  however,  a ‘few  remarks  on  the 
specific  identity  of  the  true  elks  of  the  two  hemispheres 
seem  as  much  called  for  at  this  time  as  when  Gilbert 
White,  writing  exactly  a century  ago,  asks,  Please  to  let 
me  hear  if  my  female  moose ''  (one  that  he  had  inspected 
at  Goodwood,  and  belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Kichmond) 
“ corresponds  with  that  you  saw ; and  whether  you  still 
think  that  the  American  moose  and  European  elk  are  the 
same  creature  ? ” In  reference  to  this  interesting  ques- 
tion, my  own  recent  careful  observations  and  measure- 
ments of  the  Swedish  elks  at  Sandringham  compared 
Avith  living  specimens  of  moose  of  the  same  age  examined 
in  America,  convince  me  of  their  identity;  whilst  the 
late  lamented  i\tr.  Wheelwright,  with  Avhom  I have  had 
an  interesting  correspondence  on  the  subject,  states  in 
“ Ten  Years  in  Sweden  “ The  habits,  size,  colour,  and 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  C3 


form  of  our  Swedish  elk  so  precisely  agree  with  those  of 
the  North  American  moose  in  every  respect,  that  unless 
some  minute  osteological  difference  can  be  found  to  exist 
(as  in  the  case  of  the  beavers  of  the  two  countries),  I 
think  we  may  fairly  consider  them  as  one  and  the  same 
animal.”'^  The  only  difference  of  this  nature  that  I ever 
heard  of  as  supposed  to  exist,  consisted  in  a greater 
breadth  being  accredited  to  the  skull,  at  the  most  pro- 
tuberant part  of  the  maxillaries,  in  the  case  of  the  Euro- 
pean elk.  This  I find  is  set  aside  in  the  comparative 
diagnosis  at  the  Museum  of  the  Eoyal  College  of  Sur- 

* The  following  corroborative  statement  has  appeared  in  “Land  and 
Water,”  from  the  pen  of  a correspondent  whose  initials  are  appended  : — • 
“ I beg  to  state  my  opinion  that  the  elk  of  North  America  and  of  Northern 
Europe  are  identical.  Having  lived  four  years  in  New  Brunswick  and 
Nova  Scotia,  and  having  had  the  opportunity  since  I have  been  living  in 
Prussia  of  seeing  the  interesting  paintings  of  the  elk  of  East  Prussia, 
executed  by  Count  Oscar  Krochow,  I have  very  little  doubt  on  the  subject ; 
indeed,  the  differences  are  so  trifling  and  so  manifestly  the  result  of  climatic 
influences,  that  as  a sportsman  I have  no  doubts  whatever.  The  elk  (Elend 
thier,  Elenii  thier,  Elech  or  Elk  in  German)  is  still  found  in  the  forest 
lying  between  the  Russian  frontier  and  the  Curische  Huff,  in  the  govern- 
mental district  of  Gumbinnen,  where  it  is  strictly  preserved,  and  where 
its  numbers  have  considerably  increased  in  late  years.  I think  that  only 
six  stags  are  allowed  to  be  shot  yearly  in  this  district,  and  permission  is 
only  to  be  obtained  on  very  particular  recommendation  to  high  authorities 
in  Berlin.  The  best  German  sporting  authorities  and  sporting  naturalists 
consider  the  moose  deer  of  North  America  and  the  elk  of  Northern  Europe 
to  be  identical.  The  elk  was  not  extinct  in  Saxony  till  after  the  year  1746, 
and  is  still  found  in  Prussia,  Livonia,  Finland,  Courland  (where  it  is  called 
Halang),  in  the  Ural,  and  in  Siberia.  Perhaps  the  greatest  numbers  are 
found  in  the  Tagilsk  forests  in  the  Ural,  where  the  elk  grows  to  an 
enormous  size.  The  size  and  weight,  shape  of  the  antlers,  its  having 
topmost  height  at  the  shoulder,  the  shape  and  mode  of  carrying  the  head, 
prolongation  of  the  snout  to  what  is  called  (in  North.  America)  Hhemooflie,’ 
the  awkward  trotting  gait,  and  also  its  power  of  endurance  and  the  dis- 
tances which  it  travels  when  alarmed,  all  concur  in  establishing  the  identity 
of  the  North  American  and  Northern  European  elks.  The  elk  of  Northern 
Europe  goes  with  young  forty  weeks  ; the  rutting  season  commences  in 
Lithuania  (East  Prussia)  about  the  end  of  August,  and  lasts  through 
September.  As  well  as  can  be  established  by  recent  observation,  the 
duration  of  life  is  from  sixteen  to  eighteen  years.” — B.  W.  (Berlin). 


64 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


geons,  in  wliicli  no  grounds  of  distinction  whatever  are 
evidenced. 

I consider  that  this  and  the  other  arctic  deer — the 
rangifers  (excepting,  perhaps,  in  the  latter  instance  the 
small  barren-ground  cariboo,  which  is  probably  a distinct 
species) — owe  any  differences  of  colour  or  size,  or  even 
shape  of  the  antler,  to  local  variation,  influenced  by  the 
physical  featimes  of  the  country  they  inhabit.  There  is 
more  variation  in  the  woodland  cariboo  of  America  in  its 
distribution  across  the  continent  than  I am. able  to  perceive 
between  the  elks  of  the  Old  and  New  AVorkl.  As  migra- 
tory deer,  occupying  the  same  great  zoological  province, 
almost  united  in  its  arctic  margin,  we  need  not  look  for 
difference  of  species  as  we  do  in  the  case  of  animals  whose 
zones  of  existence  are  more  remote  from  the  Pole,  and 
where  we  find  identical  species  replaced  by  typical. 

The  remark  of  an  old  writer  that  the  elk  is  a melan- 
cholick  beast,  fearful  to  be  seen,  delighting  in  nothing 
but  moisture,”  expresses  the  cautious  and  retiring  habits 
of  the  moose,  and  the  partiality  which  it  evinces  for  the 
long,  mossy  swamps,  where  the  animal  treads  deeply  and 
noiselessly  on  a soft  cushion  of  sphagnum.  These  svramps 
are  of  frecpient  occurrence  round  the  margins  of  lakes, 
and  occupy  low  ground  everywhere.  They  are  covered 
by  a rank  growth  of  black  spruce  (Abies  nigra),  of  stunted 
and  unhealthy  appearance,  their  roots  perpetually  bathed 
by  the  chilling  water  which  underlies  the  sphagnum,  and 
their  contorted  branches  shaggy  with  usnea.  The  cin- 
namon fern  (Osmunda  cinnamomea)  grows  luxuriantly  ; 
and  its  waving  fronds,  tinged  orange-brown  in  the  fall  of 
the  year,  present  a pleasing  contrast  to  the  light  sea- 
green  carpet  of  moss  from  which  they  spring  profusely. 


THE  ALCTNE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  65 


A few  swamp-maple  saplings,  witlirod  bushes  (viburnum), 
and  mountain-ash,  occur  at  intervals  near  the  edge  of 
the  swamp,  where  the  ground  is  drier,  and  offer  a 
mouthful  of  browse  to  the  moose,  who,  however,  mostly 
frequenting  these  localities  in  the  rutting  season,  seldom 
partake  of  food.  Here,  accompanied  by  his  consort, 
the  bull  remains,  if  undisturbed,  for  weeks  together  ; 
and,  if  a large  animal,  will  claim  to  be  the  monarch  of 
the  swamp,  crashing  with  his  antlers  against  the  tree 
stems  should  he  hear  a distant  rival  approaching,  and 
making  sudden  mad  rushes  through  the  trees  that  can 
be  heard  at  a long  distance.  At  frequent  intervals  the 
moss  is  torn  up  in  a large  area,  and  the  black  mud 
scooped  out  by  the  bull  pawing  with  the  fore-foot- 
Eound  these  holes  he  continually  resorts.  The  strong 
musky  effluvia  evolved  by  them  is  exceedingly  offensive, 
and  can  be  perceived  at  a considerable  distance.  They 
are  examined  with  much  curiosity  by  the  Indian  hunter 
(who  is  not  over  particular)  to  ascertain  the  time  elapsed 
since  the  animal  was  last  on  the  spot.  A similar  fact  is 
noticed  by  Mr.  Lloyd  in  the  case  of  the  European  elk, 
“ grop ''  being  the  Norse  term  applied  to  such  cavities 
found  in  similar  situations  in  the  Scandinavian  forest. 

The  rutting  season  commences  early  in  September,  the 
horns  of  the  male  being  by  that  time  matured  and  har- 
dened. An  Indian  hunter  has  told  me  that  he  has  called 
up  a moose  in  the  third  week  of  August,  and  found  the 
velvet  still  covering  the  immature  horn  ; however,  the 
connexion  between  the  cessation  of  further  emission  of 
horn  matter  from  the  system  owing  to  strangulation  of 
the  ducts  at  the  burr  of  the  completed  antler,  with  the 
advent  of  the  sexual  season,  is  so  well  established  as  a 


06 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


fact  in  the  natural  history  of  the  Cervinse  that  such  an 
instance  must  be  regarded  as  exceptional.  The  first  two 
or  three  days  of  September  over,  and  the  moose  has 
worked  off  the  last  ragged  strip  of  the  deciduous  skin 
against  his  favourite  rubbing-posts — the  stems  of  young 
hacmatack  (larch)  and  alder  bushes,  and  with  conscious 
pride  of  condition  and  strength,  with  clean  hard  antlers 
and  massive  neck,  is  ready  to  assert  his  claims  against 
all  rivals.  A nobler  animal  does  not  exist  in  the  American 
forest ; nor,  whatever  may  have  been  asserted  about  his 
ungainliness  of  gait  and  appearance,  a form  more  entitled 
to  command  admiration,  calculated,  indeed,  on  first  being 
confronted  with  the  forest  giant,  to  produce  a feeling  of 
awe  on  the  part  of  the  young  hunter.  To  hear  his  dis- 
tant crashings  through  the  woods,  now  and  then  drawing 
his  horns  across  the  brittle  branches  of  dead  timber  as  if 
to  intimidate  the  supposed  rival,  and  to  see  the  great 
black  mass  burst  forth  from  the  dense  forest  and  stalk 
majestically  towards  you  on  the  open  barren,  is  one  of 
the  grandest  sights  that  can  be  presented  to  a sports- 
man’s eyes  in  any  quarter  of  the  globe.  His  coat  now 
lies  close,  with  a gloss  reflecting  the  sun’s  rays  like  that 
of  a well-groomed  horse.  His  prevailing  colour,  if  in  his 
prime,  is  jet  black,  with  beautiful  golden-brown  legs,  and 
flanks  pale  fawn.  The  swell  of  the  muscle  surrounding 
the  fore-arm  is  developed  like  the  biceps  of  a prize- 
fighter, and  stands  well  out  to  the  front.  I have  mea- 
sured a fore-arm  of  a large  moose  over  twenty  inches  in 
circumference.  The  neck  is  nearly  as  round  as  a barrel, 
and  of  immense  thickness.  The  honis  are  of  a licrlit 
yellowish  white  stained  with  chestnut  patches  ; the  tines 
rather  darker ; and  the  base  of  the  horn,  with  the  lowest 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  67 


group  of  prongs  projecting  forwards,  of  a dark  reddish 
brown. 

At  this  season  the  bulls  fight  desperately.  Backed 
by  the  immense  and  compact  neck,  the  collision  of  the 
antlers  of  two  large  rivals  is  heard  on  a still  autumnal 

O 

night,  like  the  report  of  a gun.  If  the  season  is  young, 
the  palm  of  the  horn  is  often  pierced  by  the  tines  of  the 
adversary,  and  I have  picked  up  broken  fragments  of 
tines  where  a fight  has  occurred.  Though  at  other 
seasons  they  rarely  utter  a sound,  where  moose  are  plen- 
tiful they  may  be  heard  all  day  and  night.  The  cows 
utter  a prolonged  and  strangely-wild  call,  which  is  imi- 
tated by  the  Indian  hunter  through  a trumpet  of  rolled- 
up  birch-bark  to  allure  the  male.  The  bull  emits  several 
sounds.  Travelling  through  the  woods  in  quest  of  a 
mate,  he  is  constantly  ''  talking,''  as  the  Indians  say, 
giving  out  a suppressed  guttural  sound — quoh  ! quoh ! 
— which  becomes  much  sharper  and  more  like  a bellow 
when  he  hears  a distant  cow.  Sometimes  he  bellows  in 
rapid  succession ; but  when  approaching  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  forest  where  he  has  heard  the  call  of  the  cow 
moose,  and  for  which  he  makes  a bee  line  at  first,  he 
becomes  much  more  cautious,  speaking  more  slowly,  con- 
stantly stopping  to  listen,  and  often  finally  making  a long 
noiseless  dHoiir  of  the  neighbourhood,  so  as  to  come  up 
from  the  windward,  by  which  means  he  can  readily 
detect  the  presence  of  lurking  danger  These  latter 
cautious  manoeuvres  on  the  part  of  the  moose  are,  how- 
ever, more  frequently  exercised  in  districts  where  they 
are  much  hunted  ; in  their  less  accessible  retreats  the  old 
bulls  will  often  rush  up  to  the  spot  without  hesitation. 
The  suspicious  and  angry  bull  will  often  go  into  a thick 


68 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


swamp  and  lay  about  bim  amongst  the  spruce  stems  right 
and  left,  now  and  then  making  short  rushes — the  dead 
sticks  flpng  before  him  with  reports  like  pistol  shots.  I 
have  often  heard  a strange  sound  produced  by  moose 
when  ‘'real  mad,”  as  the  Indians  would  say — a half- 
choked  sound  as  if  there  was  a stoppage  in  the  wind-pipe, 
which  might  be  expressed — hud-jup,  hud-jup  ! When 
with  his  mate,  his  note  is  plaintive  and  coaxing — cooah, 
cooah ! 

A veteran  hunter,  now  dead,  well-knovm  in  Kova 
Scotia  as  Joe  Cope — to  be  regretted  as  one  of  the  last 
examples  of  a thorough  Indian,  and  gifted  with  extra- 
ordinary faculties  for  the  chase — thus  described  to  me, 
over  the  camp-fire,  one  of  his  earlier  reminiscences  of  the 
woods — the  subject  being  a moose  fight. 

It  was  a bright  night  in  October,  and  he  was  alone, 
calling,  on  an  elevated  ridge  which  overlooked  a great 
extent  of  forest  land.  “ I call,”  said  he,  “ and  in  all  my 
life  I never  hear  so  many  moose  answer.  Why,  the  place 
was  bihn  with  moose.  By-and-by  I hear  two  coming 
just  from  opposite  ways — proper  big  bulls  I knew  from 
the  way  they  talked  They  come  right  ou,  and  both 
come  on  the  little  hill  at  same  time — pretty  hard  place, 
too,  to  chmb  up,  so  full  of  rocks  and  windfalls.  When 
they  coming  up  the  hill,  I never  hear  moose  make  such 
a shockin’  noise,  roarin’,  and  tearin’  with  their  horns.  I 
just  step  behind  some  bushes,  and  lay  down.  They  meet 
just  at  the  top,  and  directly  they  seen  one  another,  they 
went  to  it.  Well,  Capten,  you  wouldn’t  b’heve  what  a 
noise — ^just  the  same  as  if  gam  gone  off'.  AVeU,  they 
ripped  away,  till  I couldn’t  stand  it  no  longer,  and  I shot 
one  of  the  poor  brutes ; the  other  he  didn’t  seem  to  mind 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  60 


the  gun  one  bit — ^no  more  noise  than  what  he  been 
makin’,  and  he  thought  he  killed  the  moose  ; so  I just 
loaded  quick,  and  I shot  him  too.  What  fine  moose 
them  was — both  layin'  together  on  the  rocks  I No  moose 
like  them  now-a-days,  Capten.^^ 

It  is  not  long  since  that  an  animated  controversy  ap- 
peared in  the  columns  of  a sporting  paper  under  the 
heading  Do  stags  roar  ? ” It  was  decided,  I believe, 
that  such  was  the  case  with  the  red-deer  of  the  Scottish 
hills,  by  the  testimony  of  many  sportsmen.  I can  testify 
that  such  is  also  a habit  of  the  moose,  arid  many  will 
corroborate  this  statement.  On  two  occasions  in  the  fall 
I have  heard  the  strange  and,  until  acquainted  with  its 
origin,  almost  appalling  sound  emitted  by  the  moose.  It 
is  a deep,  hoarse,  and  prolonged  bellow,  more  resembling 
a feline  than  a bovine  roar.  Once  it  occurred  when  a 
moose,  hitherto  boldly  coming  up  at  night  to  the  Indians^ 
call,  had  suddenly  come  on  our  tracks  of  the  previous 
evening  when  on  our  way  to  the  calling-ground.  On  the 
other  occasion  I followed  a pair  of  moose  for  more  than 
an  hour,  guided  solely  by  the  constantly  repeated  roar- 
ings of  the  bull,  which  I shot  in  the  act. 

Young  moose  of  the  second  and  third  year  are  later 
in  their  season  than  the  old  bulls.  Before  the  end  of 
October,  when  their  elders  have  retired,  though  they  will 
generally  readily  answer  the  Indians’  call  from  a dis- 
tance, they  show  great  caution  in  approaching — stealthily 
hovering  round,  seldom  answering,  and  creeping  along 
the  edges  of  the  barren  or  lake  so  as  to  get  to  leeward  of 
the  caller,  making  no  crashing  with  their  horns  against 
the  trees  as  do  the  older  bulls,  and  always  adopting  the 
moose-paths.  In  consequence  they  are  seldom  called  up. 


VO  FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 

When  the  moose  wishes  to  beat  a retreat  in  silence,  his 
suspicions  being  aroused,  he  can  effect  the  same  with 
marvellous  stealth.  Not  a branch  is  heard  to  snap,  and 
the  horns  are  so  carefully  carried  through  the  densest 
thickets  that  I believe  a porcupine  or  a rabbit  would 
make  more  noise  when  alarmed. 

In  the  fall  the  bull  moose,  forgetting  his  hitherto  cau- 
tious habits  of  moving  through  the  forest,  seems,  on  the 
contrary,  bent  on  making  himself  heard,  “ sounding  (as 
the  Indians  term  it)  his  horns  against  a tree  with  a pecu- 
liar metallic  ring.  Sometimes  the  ear  of  the  hunter, 
intently  listening  for  signs  of  advancing  game,  is  as- 
sailed by  a most  tremendous  clatter  from  some  distant 
swamp  or  burnt-wood,  ‘"just  (as  my  Indian  once  aptly 
expressed  it)  as  if  some  one  had  taken  and  hove  down  a 
pile  of  old  boards.”  It  is  the  moose,  defiantly  sweeping 
his  forest  of  tines  right  and  left  amongst  the  brittle 
branches  of  the  ram-pikes,  as  the  scathed  pines,  hardened 
by  fire,  are  locally  termed.  The  resemblance  of  the 
sound  of  the  bull  when  he  answers  at  a great  distance  off 
to  the  chopping  of  an  axe  is  very  distinct ; and  even  the 
practised  ear  of  the  sharpest  Indian  is  often  exercised  in 
long  and  anxiously  criticising  the  sound  before  he  can 
make  up  his  mind  from  which  it  emanates.  There  are 
of  frequent  occurrence,  in  districts  frequented  by  these 
animals,  what  are  termed  moose-paths  — well-defined 
lines  of  travel  and  of  communication  between  their  feeding 
grounds  which,  when  seeking  a new  browsing  country, 
or  when  pursued,  they  invariably  make  for  and  follow. 
These  paths,  which  in  some  places  are  scarcely  visible,  at 
other  times  are  broad  enough  to  afibrd  a good  line  of 
travel  to  a man  ; they  are  also  used  by  bears  and  wild 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  71 


cats.  Sometimes  they  connect  the  little  mossy  bogs 
which  often  run  in  chains  through  a low-lying  evergreen 
forest ; at  others  they  traverse  the  woods  round  the 
edges  of  barrens,  skirting  lakes  and  swamps.  I have 
often  observed  that  moose,  chased  from  a distance  into  a 
strange  district,  will  at  once  and  intuitively  take  to  one 
of  these  moose-paths. 

With  the  exception  of  the  leaves  and  tendrils  of  the 
yellow  pond  lily  (Nuphar  ad  vena),  eaten  when  wallowing 
in  the  lakes  in  summer,  and  an  occasional  bite  at  a tus- 
sack  of  broad-leaved  grass  growing  in  dry  bogs,  the  food 
of  the  moose  is  solely  afforded  by  leaves  and  young 
terminal  shoots  of  bushes.  The  following  is  a list  of 
trees  and  shrubs  from  which  I picked  specimens,  showing 
the  browsing  of  moose,  on  returning  to  camp  one  winter’s 
afternoon.  Eed  maple,  white  birch,  striped  maple,  swamp 
maple,  balsam  fir,  poplar,  witch  hazel,  mountain  ash. 
The  withrod  is  as  often  eaten,  and  apparently  relished 
as  a tonic  bitter,  as  the  mountain  ash  ; but  the  young 
poplar  growing  up  in  recently  burnt  lands  in  small 
groves,  with  tender  shoots,  appears  to  form  the  most 
frequently  sought  item  of  diet.  In  winter  young  spruces 
are  often  eaten,  as,  also,  is  the  silver  fir ; in  the  latter 
case  the  Indians  say  the  animal  is  sick.  The  observant 
eye  of  the  Indian  hunter  can  generally  tell  in  winter, 
should  drifting  snow  cover  up  its  tracks,  the  direction  in 
which  the  moose  has  proceeded,  feeding  as  he  travels,  by 
the  appearance  of  the  bitten  boughs  ; as  the  incisors  of 
the  lower  jaw  cut  into  the  bough,  the  muscular  upper  lip 
breaks  it  off  from  the  opposite  side,  leaving  a rough  pro- 
jection surmounting  a clean-cut  edge,  by  which  the 
position  of  the  passing  animal  is  indicated.  The  wild 


72 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


meadow  hay  stacked  by  the  settlers  back  in  the  woods  is 
never  touched  by  moose,  though  I have  seen  them  eat 
hay  when  taken  young  and  brought  up  in  captivity.  A 
young  one  in  my  possession  would  also  graze  on  grass, 
which,  vainly  endeavouring  to  crop  by  widely  straddling 
with  the  forelegs  he  would  finally  drop  on  his  knees  to 
eat,  and  thus  would  advance  a step  or  two  to  reach 
further,  and  in  a most  ludicrous  manner. 

To  get  at  the  foliage  out  of  reach  of  his  mouffle  the 
animal  resorts  to  the  practice  of  riding  down  young 
trees,  as  shown  in  the  accompanying  woodcut. 

The  teeth  of  the  moose  are  arranged  according  to  the 
dental  formula  of  all  ruminants,  though  I once  saw  a 
lower  jaw  contain  mg  nine  perfect  incisors.  The  crown 
of  the  molar  is  deeply  cleft,  and  the  edges  of  the  enamel 
surrounding  the  cutting  surfaces  very  sharp  and  hard  as 
adamant — beautifully  adapted  to  reduce  the  coarse 
sapless  branches  on  which  it  is  sometimes  compelled  to 
subsist  in  winter,  when  accumulated  snows  shut  it  out 
from  seeking  more  favourable  feeding  grounds.  I have 
often  heard  it  asserted  by  Indian  hunters  that  a large 
stone  is  to  be  found  in  the  stomach  of  every  moose. 
This,  of  course,  is  a fable  ; but  a few  years  since  I was 
given  a calculus  from  a moose’s  stomach  which  I had 
sawn  in  two.  The  concentric  rings  were  well  defined, 
and  were  composed  of  radiating  crystals  like  needles.  The 
nucleus  was  plainly  a portion  of  a broken  molar  tooth 
which  the  animal  had  swallowed.  A short  time  after- 
wards I obtained  another  bezoar  taken  from  a moose. 
The  rings  were  fewer  in  number  than  in  the  preceding 
case,  but  the  nucleus  was  a very  nearly  perfect  and  entire 
molar. 


MOOSE  RIDING  DOWN  A TREE. 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  73 


The  young  bull  moose  grows  his  first  horn  (a  little 
dag),  of  a cylindrical  form,  in  his  second  summer,  ^.e., 
when  one  year  old.  Both  these  and  the  next  years 
growth,  which  are  bifurcate,  remain  on  the  head  through- 
out the  winter  till  April  or  May.  The  palmate  horns  of 
succeeding  years  are  dropped  earlier,  in  January  or 
February — a new  growth  commencing  in  April.  The 
full  development  of  the  horn  appears  to  be  attained 
when  the  animal  is  in  its  seventh  year.* 

As  a means  of  judging  age,  no  dependence  is  to  be 
placed  on  the  number  of  the  tines,  but  more  upon  the 
colour  and  perfect  appearance  of  the  antler.  In  an  old 
moose,  past  his  prime,  the  horns  have  a bleached  appear- 
ance, and  the  tines  are  not  fully  developed  round 
the  edge  of  the  palm.  It  is  my  impression  that  when 
moose  are  much  disturbed,  and  are  not  allowed  to  “ breed” 
their  horns  in  quiet,  contorted  and  undersized  horns 
most  frequently  occur.  Double  and  even  treble  jDalms, 

* Old  Winckell,  perhaps  the  best  authority  among  the  Germans  on 
sporting  zoology,  says  on  this  point  : — “ In  the  first  year  of  life,  and  indeed 
earlier  than  the  red  deer,  the  elk  calf  shows  knobby  projections  on  that 
part  of  the  head  where  the  horns  grow,  which  by  September  attain  an  inch 
in  height.  In  the  spring  of  the  second  year  the  true  knobs  appear,  forming 
single  points  seven  or  eight  inches  in  length.  These  are  covered  with 
dark  brown  velvet.  In  the  latter  part  of  April,  or  beginning  of  May  in 
the  year  following,  these  are  cast,  and  are  replaced  either  by  longer  single 
points  or  by  forked  antlers,  according  to  which  the  young  elk  is  called 
either  ‘ spiesser  ’ or  ‘ gabler.^  These  again  are  cast  early  in  April,  and  are 
replaced  by  heavier  forks,  or  by  shorter  but  six-pointed  antlers,  when  the 
elk  obtains  the  designation  of  ‘ geringer  hirsch.’  In  the  fifth  year  the  horns 
are  cast  in  March,  and  the  new  ones  lose  their  velvet  also  at  a correspond- 
ingly earlier  date.  These  are  cast  in  February  of  the  sixth  year.  I should 
have  previously  remarked  that  they  had  already  developed  into  branches, 
which  form  they  retain  from  henceforth,  the  number  of  points  on  the  broad 
shovel-shaped  branches  increasing  with  age.  From  this  time  forth  the  elk 
casts  in  December  and  January,  the  complete  reproduction  of  the  great 
antlers,  which  attain  a weight  of  from  30  to  40  lb.,  not  being  completed 
till  June.  The  antlers  of  the  young  are  light,  those  of  the  full-grown  elk 
are  dark  brown.”— 11.  W, 


74 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


folded  back  one  layer  upon  the  other,  are  not  uncommon  ; 
and  sometimes  an  almost  entire  absence  of  palmation 
occurs,  in  which  case  I have  seen  a pair  of  moose  horns 
ascribed  to  the  cariboo.  Structural  irregularity  of  the 
antler  is  frequently  the  result  of  constitutional  injury. 
A friend  in  Nova  Scotia,  well  known  there  as  ‘‘the  Old 
Hunter,”  recently  gave  me  a pair  of  horns  of  most 
singular  appearance,  the  original  possessor  of  which  he 
had  shot  a few  falls  previous.  They  were  of  a dead- 
white  colour,  without  palmation,  and  with  immense  and 
knotted  burrs  and  long  bony  excrescences  sprouting  from 
the  shafts  of  the  antlers  like  stalactites.  The  horn 
matter,  instead  of  flowing  evenly  over  the  surface,  had 
been  impeded  in  its  course,  and  had  burst  out  at  the  base 
of  the  horn.  The  animal,  an  unusually  large  and  old 
bull,  when  shot  showed  evident  signs  of  having  been  in 
the  wars  during  the  previous  season.  Several  of  his  ribs 
were  broken,  and  the  carcass  bore  many  other  marks  of 
injury.  The  very  bones  appeared  affected  by  disease, 
and  were  dried  up  and  marrowless. 

Even  when  badly  wounded,  the  moose  is  seldom 
known  to  attack  a man  unless  too  nearly  approached. 
There  are  instances,  however,  recorded  to  the  contrary. 
An  old  Indian,  long  since  dead,  called  “ Old  Joe  Cope” 
(not  the  Joe  previously  mentioned),  was  for  years  nearly 
bent  double  by  a severe  beating  received  from  the  fore- 
foot  of  a Avounded  moose  Avhich  turned  on  him.  For 
safety,  there  being  no  tree  near,  he  jammed  himself  in 
between  two  large  granite  boulders  which  Avere  near  at 
hand.  The  aperture  did  not  extend  far  enough  back  to 
enable  him  to  get  altogether  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
infuriated  bull. 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS. 


75 


Whatever  may  be  said  about  the  mild  eyes  of  the 
dying  moose,  a wounded  animal,  unable  to  get  away, 
assumes  a very  ugly  ” expression.  The  little  hazel  eye 
and  constricted  muscles  of  the  mouffle  speak  volumes  of 
concentrated  hate.  Such  scenes  I have  lost  no  time  in 
terminating  by  a quick  coicp  de  grdce.  When  the 
moose  faces  the  hunter,  licking  his  lips,  it  is  a caution  to 
stand  clear. 

Portions  of  skeletons,  the  skulls  united  by  firmly 
locked  antlers,  are  not  unfrequently  found  in  the  wilder- 
ness arena  where  a deadly  fight  has  occurred,  and  the 
unfortunate  animals  have  thus  met  a lingering  and 
terrible  death,  to  which  may  be  applied  the  well-known 
lines  of  Byron  in  illustration — the  contest,  indeed,  being 
prolonged  beyond  the  original  intention  : — 

“ Friends  meet  to  part  : love  laughs  at  faith  ; 

True  foes,  once  met,  are  joined  till  death  ! ” 

A Splendid  pair  of  locked  horns  of  the  American 
moose  now  adorn  the  Museum  of  the  Eoyal  College  of 
Surgeons. 

In  hot  weather  the  moose  appears  much  oppressed  and 
lazy  ; he  will  scarcely  stir,  and  a little  exertion  causes 
him  to  pant  and  the  tongue  to  hang  out.  Cold  weather, 
on  the  contrary,  braces  him  up,  and  we  always  find  that 
on  a frosty  night  and  morning  in  the  fall  of  the  year 
the  moose  is  more  inclined  to  travel  and  answer  the 
hunter  s call  than  on  a close  night,  though  in  the  height 
of  the  season.  The  best  time  for  calling  is  on  a cold 
frosty  morning  just  before  sunrise,  when  a rime  frost 
whitens  the  barrens,  and  the  air  holds  a death-like 
stillness,  the  constant  hooting  of  the  cat-owls  (Bubo 
Virginianus)  portending  the  aj)proach  of  a storm. 


76 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Except  in  the  height  of  the  rutting  season,  the  great 
ear  of  the  moose  is  ever  on  the  alert  to  detect  danger  ; 
the  • slightest  snap  of  a dead  bough  trodden  on  by  the 
advancing  hunter,  and  he  is  off  in  a long  swinging  trot 
for  many  a mile.  He  readily  perceives  the  difference  of 
sounds  occasioned  by  the  presence  of  his  human  foe  to 
those  produced  by  the  animals  or  bffds  of  the  forest,  or 
by  the  approach  of  his  ovm  species.  “ The  only  way 
you  can  fool  a moose,'’  says  my  Indian,  ‘‘  is  when  the 
drops  of  rain  are  pattering  off  the  trees  on  to  the  dead 
leaves  ; then  he  don’t  know  nothing." 

The  presence  of  the  moose  is  so  difficult  to  detect, 
except  by  tracks  and  signs  of  browsing,  that  habitual 
silence  and  caution  in  walkino^  throuo'h  the  forest  be- 
comes  a leading  trait  in  the  moose  hunter,  whose  eyes 
are  ever  glancing  around  through  the  forest.  By  observ- 
ing this  strictly,  and  from  long  habit,  I shot  my  last 
moose  unexpectedly.  On  our  road  to  the  calling  ground, 
a picturesque  little  open  bog  of  a hundred  acres  or  so  in 
the  middle  of  a heavily-wooded  evergreen  forest,  we  had 
passed  through  a descending  valley  under  tall  hemlock 
woods  on  the  soft  mossy  carpet  which  makes  travelling 
,.o  easy  and  gTateful  to  the  moccasined  foot.  Xot  a word 
had  been  spoken  save  in  cautious  undertones,  and  de- 
bouching on  the  bog,  we  walked  up  to  a little  pile  of 
rocks  and  dead  trees  near  the  centre,  where  we  were  to 
try  our  luck  with  the  moose-call  on  the  approach  of 
evening,  and  quietly  deposited  our  loads — blankets  and 
camp-kettle.  Lighting  our  pipes,  we  sat  still  for  a few 
moments,  scanning  the  edges  of  tlie  woods.  It  was  per- 
fectly calm  ; not  a sound  except  the  cry  of  the  jay  or  the 
woodpecker’s  tap.  Presently  tlie  Indian,  who  lay  in  the 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  77 


bushes  close  hj,  gave  a little  warning  hist ; ” and,  look- 
ing up,  I saw  a fine  moose  standing  about  eighty  yards 
off,  and  slowly  looking  about  him.  He  had  come  out  of 
the  woods  close  to  our  point  of  exit,  and  we  must  have 
been  passed  by  him  quite  handy.  I was  capped  ; and  in 
a few  minutes  crowds  of  moose-birds  had  assembled  to 
share  the  hunter  s feast.  But  for  our  caution  we  should 
never  have  seen  or  heard  him. 

In  November,  the  rutting  season  over,  the  bull  moose 
again  seeks  the  water  and  recovers  his  appetite  : re- 
maining, nevertheless,  in  poor  condition  throughout  the 
winter.  He  may  be  now  seen  standing  listless  and 
motionless  for  hours  together,  and  seeming  to  take  but 
little  notice  of  the  approach  of  danger  unless  his  nostrils 
are  invaded  by  the  scent  of  a human  being,  which  will 
start  a moose  under  any  circumstances.  About  this 
time  the  cows,  young  bulls,  and  calves  congregate  in 
small  parties  of  three  to  half  a dozen,  and  affect  open 
barrens  and  hill  sides,  where  there  is  a plentiful  supply 
of  young  wood  of  deciduous  trees,  constituting  what  is 
termed  a moose-yard.''  If  undisturbed  they  will  remain 
on  such  spots,  feeding  round  in  an  area  more  or  less  limited 
in  extent,  for  several  weeks ; when,  the  supply  of  pro- 
vender  failing,  they  break  up  camp  and  proceed  in  search 
of  fresh  ground.  When  the  weather  and  state  of  the 
snow  permits,  these  shifts  are  practised  throughout  the 
winter.  In  Canada,  however,  and  in  Northern  New 
Brunswick,  the  moose  is  a far  less  migratory  animal  than 
he  is  in  Nova  Scotia,  owing  to  the  great  depth  of  the 
snow ; once  he  chooses  his  yard  he  has  to  remain  in  it, 
and  is  quite  at  the  mercy  of  the  hunter  who  may  have 
discovered  the  locality,  and  who  can  invade  his  domains 


78 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


at  any  time  and  at  his  own  convenience.  The  old  bulls 
become  very  solitary  in  their  habits,  and,  indeed,  seem  to 
avoid  the  society  of  their  species,  living  in  the  roughest 
and  most  inaccessible  districts,  on  hill  sides  strewn  in 
the  wildest  confusion  with  bleached  granite  boulders,  and 
vdndfalls  where  some  forest  fire  has  passed  over  and  left 
the  land  thus  desolate. 

In  severe  snow-storms  the  moose  seeks  shelter  from 
the  blinding  drift  {jyoudre)  in  fir  thickets.  In  the  yard, 
the  animal  spends  the  day  in  alternately  lying  down  for 
periods  of  about  two  hours,  and  rising  to  browse  on  the 
bushes  near  at  hand.  About  ten  o^clock  in  the  morning, 
and  again  in  the  afternoon,  they  may  generally  be  found 
feeding,  or  standing,  chewing  the  end,  with  their  heads 
listlessly  drooping.  At  noon  they  always  lie  down  ; and 
the  Indian  hunter  knows  well  that  this  is  the  worst  time 
of  day  to  approach  a yard,  as  the  animal  is  then  keenly 
watching,  with  its  wonderful  faculties  of  scent  and  hear- 
ing on  the  alert,  for  the  faintest  taint  or  sound  in  the  air 
which  would  intimate  coming  danger.  I have  waited 
motionless  for  an  hour  at  a time,  knowing  the  herd  was 
reposing  close  at  hand,  and  anxiously  expecting  a little 
wind  to  stir  the  branches  so  as  to  cover  my  advance, 
which  would  othervfise  be  quite  futile.  The  snapping  of 
a little  twig,  or  the  least  collision  of  the  rifle  with  a 
branch  in  passing,  or  the  crunching  of  the  snow  under 
the  moccasin,  though  you  planted  your  footsteps  with 
the  most  deliberate  caution,  would  suffice  to  start  them. 

The  moose  is  not  easily  alarmed,  however,  by  distant 
sounds,  nor  does  he  take  notice  of  dogs  barking,  the 
screams  of  geese,  or  the  choppings  of  an  axe — sounds, 
emanating  from  some  settlers  farm,  which  are  borne 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  79 


through  the  air  on  a clear  frosty  morning  to  an  astonish- 
ing distance  in  America.  Indeed,  I once  was  lying  in 
the  bushes  in  full  view  of  a magnificent  bull  when  the 
cars  passed  on  a provincial  railway  at  a distance  of  four 
or  five  miles,  and  the  deep  discordant  howl  of  the 
American  engine-whistle,  or  rather  trumpet,  woke  echoes 
from  the  hill-sides  far  and  near.  Once  or  twice  he  raised 
his  ears  and  slowly  turned  his  head  to  the  sound,  and 
then  quietly  and  meditatively  resumed  the  process  of 
rumination. 

In  April,  about  the  time  of  the  sap  ascending  in  trees, 
the  moose  horns  begin  to  sprout,  the  old  pair  having 
fallen  two  months  previously.  The  latest  date  that  I 
have  ever  seen  a bull  wearing  both  horns  was  on  the 
29th  of  January.  The  cylindrical  dag  of  the  moose  in 
his  second-  year,  and  the  two-pronged  and  still  impalmate 
horn  of  the  next  season  are,  however,  retained  till 
April.  In  the  middle  of  this  month  the  coat  is  shed, 
and  for  some  time  the  moose  presents  a very  rugged 
appearance.  Towards  the  end  of  May  the  cow  drops  one 
or  two  calves  (rarely  three),  by  the  margin  of  a lake, 
often  on  one  of  the  densely-wooded  islands,  where  they 
are  more  secure  from  the  attacks  of  the  black  bear  or  of 
the  bull  moose  themselves.  It  has  been  affirmed  as  one 
of  the  distinctive  traits  of  the  Arctic  deer  that  the  fawns 
are  not  spotted.  Though  faint,  there  are  decided  dap- 
ples on  the  sides  and  flanks  of  the  young  moose  ; in  the 
cariboo  they  are  quite  conspicuous.  In  May  the  plague 
of  flies  commences,  driving  the  more  migratory  cariboo 
to  the  mountains  and  elevated  lands,  and  inducing  the 
moose  to  pass  much  of  his  time  in  the  lakes,  where  they 
may  be  frequently  seen  browsing  on  water-lilies  near  the 


80 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


sliore,  or  swimming  from  point  to  point.  Besides  the 
clonds  of  mosquitoes  and  black  flies  (Simulium  molestum) 
which  swarm  round  everything  that  moves  in  the  woods, 
there  are  too  large  Tabani,  or  breeze  flies,  that  are  always 
about  moose,  a grey  speckled  fly,  and  one  with  yellow 
bands.  The  former  is  locally  termed  moose-fly,  and  is 
very  troublesome  to  the  traveller  in  the  woods  in  summer, 
alighting  on  an  exposed  part,  and  quickly  delivering  a 
sharp  painful  thrust  with  its  lance-like  proboscis.  A tick 
(Ixodes)  affects  the  moose,  especially  in  winter  and  early 
spring.  The  animal  strives  to  free  itself  from  their  irri- 
tation by  striding  over  bushes  and  brambles.  The  ticks 
may  often  be  seen  on  the  beds  in  the  snow  where  moose 
have  lain  down,  and  whence  they  are  quickly  picked  up  by 
the  ever- attendant  moose  birds,  or  Canada  jays  (Corvus 
canadensis).  These  vermin  will  fasten  on  the  hunter 
when  backing  his  meat  out  of  the  woods.  The  Indian 
says  : “ Bite  all  same  as  a piece  of  fire.” 

So  many  are  the  Indian  tales  illustrating  the  supposed 
power  that  the  moose  possesses  of  being  able  to  hide 
himself  from  his  pursuers  by  a complete  and  long-sus- 
tained submergence  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  that 
one  is  almost  inclined  to  believe  that  the  animal  is  gifted 
with  an  unusual  faculty  of  retaining  the  breath.  I know 
that  moose  will  feed  upon  the  tendrils  and  roots  of 
the  yellow  pond  lily  by  reaching  for  them  under  water. 
An  instance  occurring  in  the  same  district  in  Nova 
Scotia  that  I was  hunting  in,  and  at  the  same  time, 
which  was  related  to  me,  will  serve  as  a sample  of  the 
oft-repeated  stories  bearing  on  this  point.  We  had 
crossed  a fresh  moose  track  of  that  mornintr’s  date  on 
proceeding  to  our  hunting  grounds  on  the  Cumberland 


THE  ALCINE  DEER  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  81 


hills  in  search  of  cariboo.  Not  caring  to  kill  moose  we 
left  it ; but  shortly  after  the  track  was  taken  up  and 
followed  on  light  new-fallen  snow  by  a settler.  Having 
started  the  animal  once  or  twice  without  getting  a shot, 
he  followed  its  track  to  the  edge  of  a little  round  pond 
in  the  woods  whence  he  could  not  find  an  exit  of  the 
trail.  Sitting  down  to  smoke  his  pipe  before  giving  it 
up  to  return,  his  gun  left  against  a tree  at  some  distance, 
he  was  astonished  to  see  the  animaks  head  appear  above 
the  surface  in  the  middle  of  the  pond.  On  jumping  up, 
the  moose  quickly  made  for  the  opposite  shore,  and, 
emermno^  from  the  water,  reo^ained  the  shelter  of  the 
forest  ere  he  could  get*  round  in  time  for  a shot.  The 
Indians  have  a tradition  that  the  moose  originally  came 
from  the  sea,  and  that  in  times  of  great  persecution,  some 
half-century  since,  when  no  moose  tracks  could  be  found 
in  the.  Nova  Scotian  woods,  they  resorted  to  the  salt 
water,  and  left  for  other  lands.  An  old  hunter,  now 
dead,  told  me  he  was  present  when  his  father  shot  the 
first  moose  that  had  been  seen  since  their  return ; that 
great  were  the  rejoicings  of  the  Indians  on  the  occasion, 
and  that  two  were  shot  on  the  beach  by  a settler  who 
had  seen  them  swimming  for  shore  from  open  water  in 
the  Bay  of  Fundy.  I can  vouch  for  an  instance  of  a 
moose,  when  hunted,  taking  to  the  sea  and  swimming  off 
to  an  island  considerably  over  a mile  from  the  mainland. 
Such  tales  are  evidently  intimately  connected  with  the 
powers  of  the  animal  in  the  water,  in  which,  as  has  been 
previously  stated,  it  passes  much  of  its  existence  during 
the  liot  weather.  A similar  hunters  story  to  the  one 
related  above  is  quoted  by  Mr.  Gosse  iu  the  “ Canadian 
Naturalist.” 


o 


82 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


In  conclusion,  it  is  with  regret  that  the  conviction 
must  be  expressed  that  this  noble  quadruped,  at  no  very 
distant  period,  is  destined  to  pass  away  from  the  list  of 
the  existing  mammalia.  The  animal  has  fulfilled  its 
mission  ; it  has  afforded  food  and  clothing  to  the  primi- 
tive races  who  hunted  the  all-pervading  fir  forests  of 
Central  Europe  and  Asia  to  subarctic  latitudes,  whilst, 
until  very  recently,  its  flesh,  with  that  of  the  cariboo, 
formed  the  sole  subsistence  of  the  Micmacs  and  other 
tribes  living  in  the  eastern  woodlands  of  North  America. 
To  these  the  beef  of  civilisation — loenju-teeamwee,  or 
French  moose-meat,  as  the  Indian  calls  it — but  ill  and 
scantily  supplies  the  place  of  their  once  abundant  veni- 
son. It  has  enabled  the  early  and  adventurous  settler  to 
push  back  from  the  coast  and  open  up  new  clearings  in 
the  depths  of  the  forest.  With  a barrel  of  flour  and  a 
little  tea,  rafted  up  the  lakes  or  drawn  on  sleds  over  the 
snow  to  his  rude  log  hut,  he  was  satisfied  to  leave  the 
rest  to  the  providence  of  nature  ; and  the  moose,  the 
salmon,  and  the  trout,  with  the  annual  prolific  harvest  of 
wild  berries,  contributed  amply  to  the  few  wants  of  tlie 
fathers  of  many  a rising  settlement.  With  but  few  and 
exceptional  instances,  the  moose  or  the  elk  has  not  be- 
come subservient  to  man  as  a beast  of  burden  as  has  the 
reindeer  ; neither  is  it,  like  the  latter,  still  called  upon 
to  afford  subsistence  to  nomad e tribes  of  savages  who 

O 

live  entirely  apart  from  civilisation.  Being  an  inhabitant 
of  more  temperate  regions,  it  is  brought  more  constantly 
within  the  influences  of  the  permanent  neiglibourliood  of 
man,  and  tlius,  whilst  its  extinction  is  threatened  by 
slauoliter,  a sure  l)ut  certain  alteration  is  beinof  effected 
in  the  physical  fcatui-es  of  its  native  forest  regions.  The 


THE  ALCINE  DEEK  OF  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  WORLDS.  83 


ofteD  purposeless  destruction  of  woods  by  the  axe,  and 
the  constant  devastation  of  large  areas  of  forest  by  fires, 
too  frequently  the  result  of  carelessness,  are  reducing  the 
moisture  of  the  American  wilderness,  removing  the 
sponge-like  carpet  of  mosses  by  which  the  water  was 
retained,  and  rendering  the  latter  a less  fitting  abode  for 
the  moose.  Eestriction  of  his  domains  and  constant  dis- 
turbance are  undoubtedly  slowly  dwarfing  the  species. 
We  no  longer  hear  of  examples  of  the  monster  moose  of 
the  old  times  of  which  Indian  tradition  still  speaks,  and 
when  the  well-authenticated  diminution  in  the  size  of 
the  red  deer  of  the  Scottish  hills  is  remembered,  an  ap- 
pearance of  less  exaggeration  than  is  usually  attributed 
to  them  marks  the  tales  of  the  early  American  voyageurs 
concerning  the  moose. 

When  the  Eussian  aurochs  and  the  musk-sheep  of 
Arctic  America  shall  have  disappeared,  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  Cervus  Alces  of  the  Old  and  New  Worlds,  his  fir 
forests  levelled,  his  favourite  swamps  drained,  and  unable 
to  exist  continuously  in  the  broad  glare  and  radiation  of 
a barren  country,  will  follow,  to  be  regretted  as  one  of 
the  noblest  and  most  important  mammals  of  a past 
age ; his  bones  will  be  dug  from  peat-bogs  by  a future 
generation  of  naturalists,  and  prized  as  are  now  those  of 
the  Great  Auk  of  the  islands  of  the  North  Atlantic,  or  of 
the  Struthiones  of  New  Zealand,  which  have  perished 
within  the  ken  of  the  scientific  record  of  modern  natural 


CHAPTEE  IV. 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 

Successful  in  the  chase,  or  on  the  contrary,  it  must  be 
premised  that  many  a sportsman  who  essays  the  sport  of 
moose-hunting  in  the  North- American  woods  finds  but 
little  excitement  therein.  The  toil  and  monotony  of  the 
long  daily  rambles  through  a wilderness  country,  strewed 
with  rocks  and  fallen  trees,  and  covered  with  tangled 
vegetation,  with  the  uncertainty  of  obtaining  even  a 
distant  sight  of  (much  less  a shot  at)  these  cautious 
animals,  whose  tracks  one  is  apparently  constantly  fol- 
lowing to  no  purpose,  drive  not  a few  would-be  hunters 
from  the  woods  in  a state  of  supreme  disgust. 

There  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  wild  sports  are 
pursued,  in  which  the  goddess  of  hunting  exacts  so  much 
perseverance  and  labour  from  her  votaries  as  tlie  fir- 
covered  districts  of  North  America,  or  bestows  so  scanty 
a reward.  The  true  and  persistent  moose-hunter  (never 
a poacher  or  a pot-hunter)  is  generally  animated  by  other 
sentiments,  and  achieves  success  through  an  earnest 
appreciation  of  the  external  circumstances  which  attend 
the  sport.  He  loves  the  solitude  of  the  forest,  and 
admires  its  scenery ; is  charmed  with  tlie  ready  resources 
and  wild  freedom  of  camp  life,  and,  instead  of  listlessly 
following  in  the  tracks  of  his  Indian  guides  in  a state  of 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


85 


semi-disgust,  derives  the  greatest  pleasure  in  watching 
their  wonderful  powers  of  tracking,  their  sagacity  in 
finding  the  game,  and  general  display  of  woodcraft. 

It  is,  perhaps,  to  this  art  of  tracking  or  creeping  ” 
that  the  sport  itself  owes  all  its  excitement ; and  it  is  in 
the  lower  provinces  (Nova  Scotia  especially)  that  it  is 
carried  out  to  perfection  by  the  Indian  hunters  ; a race, 
however,  which,  it  must  be  regrettingly  stated,  is  fast 
disappearing  from  the  country. 

In  Nova  Scotia  the  moose  may  not  be  legally  shot  after 
the  last  day  of  December,  and  are  thus  protected,  by  the 
absence  of  deep  snow  in  the  woods  during  the  open 
season,  from  such  ruthless  invasions  of  their  restricted 
‘‘  yards,”  and  wanton  massacres  as  are  of  frequent  occur- 
rence in  New  Brunswick  and  Lower  Canada.  Moose 
hunting  in  the  deep  snows  which  choke  the  forests  to- 
wards the  close  of  winter — the  hunter  being  able  to  move 
freely  over  the  surface  by  the  aid  of  his  snow-shoes, 
whilst  the  animals  are  huddled  together,  spiritless,  and 
in  wretched  condition — is  a stupid  slaughter,  and 
decidedly  deserves  the  imputation  often  cast  upon  it, 
that  it  has  no  more  merit  of  sport  than  the  being  led  up 
to  a herd  of  cattle  in  a farmyard. 

The  light  snow-storms,  however,  of  the  first  winter 
months  cover  the  ground  just  sufficiently  to  bring  out 
the  art  of  creeping  to  its  perfection,  whilst  the  moose 
cannot  be  run  down,  and  snow  shoos  are  never  required. 
The  dense  deciduous  foliage  of  the  hard  woods  is  now  all 
removed,  and  the  woods  afford  clear  open  vistas  in  which 
game  may  be  far  more  readily  detected  than  in  the  cover 
of  autumn  ; a wounded  animal  seldom  escapes  the  hunter 
to  die  a lingering  death ; and,  lastly,  there  cannot  be  the 


86 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


slightest  excuse  for  leaving  in  the  woods  the  spoils  which 
it  becomes  the  imperative  duty  of  the  hunter,  for  many 
reasons,  to  remove. 

At  the  same  time  fall-hunting  has  likewise  its  ad- 
vantages. There  is  a double  chance  of  sport  now  pre- 
sented, as  creeping  may  be  pursued  by  day,  whilst  at 
sunrise  and  sunset,  and,  indeed,  throughout  the  night 
when  the  moon  is  round,  the  call”  may  be  resorted  to. 
Much,  too,  in  the  way  of  camp  equipage  may  be  dispensed 
with  at  this  season.  One  may  travel  till  sundown  and 
camp  in  one’s  tracks  amongst  the  rank  ferns  and  bushes 
of  the  upland  barrens  with  but  one  rug  or  blanket  for 
cover,  and  sleep  soundly  and  comfortably  in  the  open, 
though  a rime  frost  sparkles  on  every  spray  next  morn- 
ing. And  if,  perhaps,  the  supply  of  firewood  has  been 
somewhat  short  towards  dawn,  the  excitement  of  hearinof 
an  answer  in  the  still  morning  air  warms  you  to  action  ; 
a mouthful  of  Glenlivet  from  the  flask,  and  a hasty 
snatch  of  what  small  amount  of  caloric  may  be  excited 
by  the  Indian  s breath  amongst  the  embers  of  the  night 
fife,  and  you  are  ready  for  the  “ morning  call.” 

And  then,  when  the  sun  dispels  the  va]30urs,  raises  the 
thin  misty  lines  which  mark  the  water  coimses  and  forest 
lakes,  and,  finally,  mellows  the  scenery  with  the  hazy 
atmosphere  of  a warm  autumnal  day,  what  a glorious 
time  it  is  to  be  in  the  woods ! Give  me  the  fall  for 
moose  hunting,  and  the  stealthy  creep  through  glowing 
forests  on  an  Indian  summer’s  day,  when  the  air  in  the 
woods  holds  that  peculiar  scent  of  decaying  foliage  which 
to  my  nostrils  conveys  an  impression  as  pleasing  as  that 
produced  by  the  blossom-scented  zephyrs  of  ^lay. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  most  singular  of  the  experiences 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


87 


wliicli  the  new  hand  meets  with  in  moose  hunting,  and 
the  one  which  teaches  him  to  lean  entirely  for  assistance 
upon  his  Indian  guide,  is  the  extreme  unfrequency  with 
which  an  accidental  sight  of  game  is  obtained  in  the 
forest.  Moose  tracks  are  perhaps  plentiful,  also  signs  of 
fresh  feeding  on  the  bushes,  and  impressed  forms  of  the 
animals,  where  they  have  rested  on  the  moss,  or  amongst 
ferns,  but  how  seldom  do  we  see  the  animals,  themselves  by 
chance.  Suddenly  emerging  from  thick  cover  on  the  edge 
of  an  extensive  barren  occupying  several  thousand  acres, 
tlie  eye  of  the  hunter  rapidly  scans  the  open  in  eager 
quest  of  a moving  form,  but  meets  with  continual  disap- 
pointment. Not  a sign  of  life,  perha23s,  but  the  glancing 
flight  of  a woodpecker  or  the  croak  of  a raven.  One  is 
prone  to  believe  that  the  country  is  deserted  by  large 
game.  Presently,  however,  your  Indian,  who,  leaving 
you  to  rest  on  a fallen  tree  and  enjoy  a few  whiffs  of  the 
hunter  s solace,  makes  a cast  round  for  his  own  satisfac- 
tion, returns  to  tell  you  that  there  are  moose  within 
(possibly)  a few  hundred  yards  of  you.  You  discredit 
it,  but  are  presently  induced  to  believe  his  assertion 
when  you  are  shown  the  freshly-bitten  foliage  (anyone 
can  soon  learn  to  distinguish  between  a new-cropped 
bough  and  a bite  over  which  a few  hours  have  passed), 
or,  perhaps,  the  mud  stiU  eddying  in  a little  pool  in 
which  the  animal  has  stepped.  You  may  listen,  too,  by 
the  liour  too^ether  for  some  token  of  their  Avhereabouts, 
but  hear  no  sounds  but  those  of  the  birds  or  squirrels. 

If  there  is  daylight,  and  the  wind  propitious,  your 
guide  will  probably  in  half  an  hour  or  so  point  to  a 
black  j)atch  seen  between  tree  stems,  indicatiDg  a portion 
of  the  huge  body  of  a moose,  unless  you  have  bungled 


88 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


the  whole  affair  by  an  unlucky  stumble  over  a brittle 
windfall,  or  clanked  your  gun-stock  against  a tree-stem. 
It  Ycill  thus  be  readily  seen  that  success  in  moose  hunt- 
ing entirely  depends  upon  the  excellence  of  the  Indian 
hunter  Avho  accompanies  the  sportsman.  His  art,  or 
“ gift,''  is  hardly  to  be  comprehended  by  description  ; 
it  is  as  evidently  the  result  of  long  practice — not,  per- 
haps, individual  practice,  but  of  the  skill  which  he  has 
inherited  from  his  forefathers,  who  before  the  advent  of 
Eastern  civilisation,  regularly  “ followed  the  wmods  — as 
is  tlie  high  state  of  perfection  to  which  the  various  breeds 
of  sporting  dogs  have  been  brought  by  artificial  means. 

Soon  confused  in  the  maze  of  woods  through  which 
your  Indian  leads  you  after  moose,  you  chance  to  ask 
him  at  length  where  camp  lies.  He  will  tell  you  within 
half  a point  of  the  compass,  and  without  hesitation, 
though  miles  away  from  the  spot.  The  slightest  dis- 
arrangement of  moss  or  foliage,  a piece  of  broken  fern, 
or  a scratch  on  the  lichens  of  a granite  plateau,  are  to 
him  the  sign-posts  of  the  woods ; he  reads  them  at  a 
glance,  running.  Should  you  rest  under  a tree  or  by  a 
brook-side,  leaving,  perhaps,  gloves,  purse,  or  pouch 
behind,  next  day  he  will  go  straight  to  the  spot  and 
recover  them,  though  the  country  is  strange.  Under  the 
snow  he  will  find  and  show  you  what  he  has  observed  or 
secreted  during  the  previous  summer.  He  is  the  closest 
observer  of  nature,  and  can  tell  you  the  times  and 
seasons  of  eveiything  ; and  there  is  not  an  animal,  bird, 
or  reptile  whose  voice  he  cannot  imitate  with  marvellous 
exactness. 

A faithful  companion,  and  always  ready  to  provide 
beforehand  for  your  slightest  necessities,  the  Micmac 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


89 


hunter  will  never  leave  you  in  the  woods  in  distress ; 
and  should  you  cut  yourself  with  an  axe,  meet  with  a 
gun  accident,  or  he  taken  otherAvise  sick,  will  carry  you 
himself  out  of  the  woods. Under  his  guidance  Ave  Avill 
now  introduce  the  reader  to  the  sport  of  moose  hunting. 

Old  Joe  Cope,  the  Indian  hunter,  is  still  to  the  fore  ;f 
his  little  legs,  in  shape  resembling  the  curved  handle  of 
pliers,  carry  him  after  the  moose  nearly  as  trustily  as 
ever.  Perhaps  his  sight  and  hearing  are  failing  him,  and 
he  generally  hunts  in  company  Avith  his  son  Jem  as  an 
assistant ; and  Jem,  being  a lusty  young  Indian,  does 
most  of  the  Avork  in  “ backino:  out’’  the  moose-meat 
from  the  Avoods. 

Joe,”  said  I,  on  meeting  the  pair  one  morning  late 
in  September,  a feAV  falls  ago,  at  the  country-market  at 
Plalifax,  AAdiere  they  Avere  selling  a large  quantity  of 
moose-meat,  Joe’s  eyes  beaming  Avith  ferocious  satisfaction 


* The  following  anecdote — a scrap  from  the  note-hook  of  an  old  comrade 
in  the  woods — is  an  interesting  example  of  the  Indian’s  reflective  powers  ; — 
“ At  length  Paul,  who  is  leading,  stops,  and,  turning  towards  us,  points 
towards  a cleared  line  through  the  forest.  ^ A road,  a road  ! ’ and  we  give 
three  such  cheers.  It  is  a logging-road,  leading  from  the  settlements  into 
the  forest  ; hut  which  is  the  way  to  the  clearings  ! If  Ave  turn  in  the  wrong 
direction  it  will  delay  us  another  day,  and  we  have  only  a little  tea  left  and 
six  small  hiscuits.  It  is  soon  settled  ; we  turn  to  the  left,  and  presently 
lind  a wisp  of  hay  dropped  close  to  a tree.  Now  comes  out  a piece  of 
Indian  ‘ ’cuteness.’  Paul  has  observed  that  when  a tree  knocks  off  a hand- 
ful of  hay  from  a load,  it  falls  on  that  side  of  the  tree  to  Avhich  the  cart  is 
going : the  hay  is  on  our  side  of  the  tree,  so  we  are  going  in  the  direction 
Avhence  the  cart  came.  But  it  might  he  wild  hay,  hrought  in  from  a 
natural  meadow.  They  taste  and  smell  it ; it  is  salt  (in  this  country  the 
farmers  salt  the  meadow  hay  to  keep  it,  hut  not  the  wild  hay)  : hence  this 
Avas  hay  carted  from  the  settlements  for  the  use  of  oxen  employed  in  haul- 
ing out  lumher.  AA^e  are,  therefore,  going  in  the  direction  Avhence  the  cart 
came,  and  toAvards  the  settlements^” 

t Since  this  Avas  Avritten,  poor  Joe  has  for  ever  left  the  hunting  grounds 
of  Acadie,  having  shot  his  last  moose  hut  a few  Aveeks  before  he  rested 
from  a life  of  singular  adventure  and  toil.  Requiescat  in  imce. 


90 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


as  he  pocketed  the  dollars  by  a ready  sale.  J oe,  I think 
I must  come  and  look  at  your  castle,  at  Indian  Lake ; they 
say  you  have  exchanged  your  camp  for  a two-storey 
frame-house,  and  are  the  squire  of  the  settlement.  Do 
you  think  you  have  left  a moose  or  two  in  your  pre- 
serves ? 

“Well,  Capten,  I very  glad  to  see  you  always  when 
you  come  along  my  way.  I most  too  old,  though,  to 
hunt  with  gentlemen — can  t see  very  welL' 

“ We  will  make  out  somehow,  Joe ; and  Jem  there 
will  help  you  through,  if  you  come  to  a stand-stilL' 

“ Oh,  never  fear,”  replied  Mr.  Cope  (he  always  speaks 
of  himself  as  Mr.  Cope),  laughing  ; “that  Jem,  he  don’t 
know  nothing ; I guess  I more  able  to  put  him  through 
yet.” 

And  so  we  closed  the  bargain ; to  wit,  that  we  should 
have  a day  or  two’s  hunting  together  in  what  Joe  fully 
regarded  as  his  own  preserves  and  private  property — the 
woods  around  Indian  Lake,  distant  twenty  miles  from 
Halifax. 

What  would  the  old  Indians,  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century,  have  said,  if  told  that  in  a short  time  a stage- 
coach would  ply  through  their  broad  hunting-grounds 
between  the  Atlantic  and  the  Bay  of  Fundy?  Think  of 
the  astonishment  of  Mr.  Cope  and  his  comrades  of  the 
present  age,  perhaps  just  stealing  on  a bull-moose,  when 
they  first  heard  the  yell  of  the  engine  and  rattle  of  the 
car-wheels  ! This  march  has  been  accomplished  ; the 
old  Windsor  coach,  with  its  teams  of  four,  after  having 
flourished  for  nearly  half  a century,  has  succumbed  to 
the  iron-horse,  and  the  discordant  sounds  of  passing 
trains  re-echo  througli  the  neighbouring  woods,  to  the  no 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


91 


small  disgust  of  Mr.  Cope  and  those  of  his  race  in  the 
same  interest. 

Joe  said  that  in  the  country  we  were  going  to  hunt, 
every  train  might  be  distinctly  heard  as  it  passed  ; “ and 
yet/’  said  he,  ‘‘the  poor  brutes  of  moose  don’t  seem  to 
mind  it  much  ; they  know  it  can’t  hurt  them.” 

A settler’s  waggon  took  our  party  over  an  execrable 
road  to  the  foot  of  Indian  Lake.  It  had  been  raining 
heavily  all  the  morning,  and  we  turned  in  to  warm  our- 
selves at  the  settler’s  shanty,  whilst  the  old  Indian  went 
off  by  a path  through  the  dripping  bushes  to  his  camp, 
for  the  purpose  of  sending  his  canoe  for  me.  This,  and 
a few  scattered  houses  in  the  neighbourhood,  was  called 
the  Wellington  settlement ; and  here,  as  at  the  Ham- 
mond’s Plains  settlement,  which  we  had  passed  through 
that  morning,  the  principal  occupation  of  the  inhabitants 
seemed  to  be  in  making  barrels  for  the  fishery  trade. 
They  make  them  very  compact,  as  they  are  intended  for 
herring  or  mackerel  in  pickle.  The  staves  are  spruce, 
and  are  bound  with  bands  of  birch.  The  barrel  is  sold  for 
a trifle  more  than  an  English  shilling.  The  Hammond’s 
Plains  people  are  all  blacks,  a miserable  race,  descendants 
of  those  who  were  landed  in  Nova  Scotia  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  American  war  in  1815.  Their  wretchedness 
in  winter  is  extreme,  and  in  the  summer  they  earn  a hand- 
to-mouth  livelihood  by  bringing  in  to  the  Halifax  market 
a few  vegetables  grown  in  the  small  cleared  patches 
round  their  dwellings,  bunches  of  trout  from  the  brooks, 
and  the  various  berries  which  grow  plentifully  in  the 
wild  waste  lands  round  their  settlement. 

Presently  the  canoe  was  signalled,  and,  going  down  to 
the  water’s  edge,  I embarked,  and  in  a few  minutes  stood 


92 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


before  Joes  castle.  It  was  a substantial  frame-house, 
evidently  built  by  some  settler  who  had  a notion  of 
making  his  fortune  by  the  aid  of  a small  stream  which 
flowed  into  the  lake  close  by,  and  over  which  stood  a 
saw-mill.  An  old  barn  was  attached,  and  from  its  rafters 
hung  moose-hides  of  ail  sizes,  ages,  and  in  all  stages  of 
decomposition ; horns,  legs,  and  hoofs ; porcupines  de- 
prived of  their  quids,  which  are  used  for  ornamental 
work  by  the  women  ;*  and,  in  fact,  a very  similar  collec- 
tion, only  on  a grander  scale,  to  that  which  is  often  dis- 
played on  the  outside  of  a gamekeeper’s  barn  in  England. 

A rush  of  lean,  hungry-looking  curs  was  made  through 
the  door  as  Joe  opened  it  to  welcome  me.  “Walk  in, 
Capten — ah,  you  brute  of  dog,  Koogimooh!  Mrs.  Cope 
from  home,  visiting  his  friends  at  Windsor.  Perhaps  you 
take  some  dinner  along  with  me  and  Jem  before  we  start 
up  lake  ? ” 

“ All  right,  Joe  ; I’ll  smoke  a pipe  till  you  and  Jem 
are  ready,”  I replied,  not  much  relishing  the  appearance 
of  the  parboiled  moose-meat  which  Jem  was  fishing  out 
of  a pot.  “No  chance  of  calling  to-night.  I’m  afraid, 
Joe  ; we  shall  have  a wet  night.” 

“ I never  see  such  weather  for  time  of  year,  Capten ; 
everything  in  woods  so  wet — can’t  hardly  make  fire  ; but 
grand  time  for  creeping — oh,  grand  ! Everything,  you 
see,  so  soft,  don’t  make  no  noise.  What  sort  of  moccasin 
you  got  ? ” 

“ A good  pair  of  the  moose-shanks  you  sold  me,  last 
winter,  eloe  ; they  are  the  best  sort  for  keeping  out  the 
wet,  and  they  are  so  thick  and  warm.” 

The  moose-shank  moccasin  is  cut  from  the  hind  leg  of 
the  moose,  above  and  below  the  hock ; it  is  in  shape  like 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


93 


an  ankle-boot,  and  is  sewn  up  tightly  at  the  toe,  and, 
with  this  exception,  being  without  seam,  is  nearly  water- 
tight. The  interior  of  Cope  Castle  was  not  very  sweet, 
nor  were  its  contents  arranged  in  a very  orderly  manner 
— this  latter  fact  to  be  accounted  for,  perhaps,  by  the 
absence  of  the  lady.  Portions  of  moose  were  strewed 
everywhere  ; potatoes  were  heaped  in  various  corners,  and 
nothing  seemed  to  have  any  certain  place  of  rest  allotted 
to  it.  Smoke-dried  eels  were  suspended  from  the  rafters, 
in  company  with  strings  of  moose-fat  and  dried  cakes  of 
concrete  blue-berries  and  apples.  Joe  had,  however,  some 
idea  of  the  ornamental,  for  parts  of  the  Illustrated  Neivs 
and  Punch  divided  the  walls  v/ith  a number  of  gaudy 
pictures  of  saints  and  martyrs. 

The  repast  being  over,  the  Indians  strided  out,  replete, 
with  lighted  pipes,  and  paddles  in  hand,  to  the  beach. 
Some  fresh  moose-meat  was  placed  in  the  canoe,  with  a 
basket  of  Joe’s  ^^’taters,”  which,  Jem  said,  ‘‘Twas  hardly 
any  use  boiling,  they  were  so  good,  they  fell  to  pieces.” 
A little  waterproof  canvas  camp  was  s]3read  over  the  rolls 
of  blankets,  guns,  camp-kettles,  and  bags  containing  the 
grub,  which  were  stowed  at  the  bottom ; and,  having 
seated  myself  beside  them,  the  Indians  stejoped  lightly 
into  the  canoe  and  pushed  her  off,  when,  propelled  by 
the  long  sweeping  strokes  of  their  paddles,  we  glided 
rapidly  up  the  lake. 

Indian  Lake  is  a beautiful  sheet  of  water,  nearly  ten 
miles  in  length,  and,  prdj^ortionally,  very  narrow — j)er- 
haps  half  a mile  in  its  general  breadth.  Rolling  hills, 
steep,  and  covered  with  heavy  fir  and  hemlock  wood, 
bounded  its  western  shore ; those  on  the  opposite  side 
showing  large  openings  of  dreary  burnt  country.  Tlie 


94 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


maple-buslies,  skirting  the  water,  were  tinged  with  their 
brightest  autumnal  glow ; and  in  the  calm  water,  in  coves 
and  nooks,  on  the  windward  side  of  the  lake,  the  reflec- 
tions were  very  beautiful.  I longed  for  a cessation  of  the 
rain,  and  a gleam  of  sunshine  across  the  hill-tops,  if  only 
to  enjoy  the  scenery  as  we  passed ; and  certainly  a seat 
in  a canoe  is  a very  pleasant  position  from  which  to 
observe  the  beauties  of  lake  or  river  scenery,  the  spec- 
tator being  comfortaldy  seated  on  a blanket  or  bunch  of 
elastic  boughs  in.  the  bottom  of  the  canoe — legs  stretched 
out  in  front,  back  well  supported  by  rolls  of  blankets, 
and  elbows  resting  on  the  gunwales  on  either  side. 

Ah  ! here  is  the  Halfway  rock,  what  the  old  Indians 
call  the  Grandmother,’'  said  Joe,  steering  the  canoe  so  as 
to  pass  close  alongside  a line  of  rocks  which  stood  out  in 
fantastic  outlines  from  the  water  close  to  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake.  Here  is  the  Grandmother — we  must 
give  him  something,  or  we  have  no  luck.” 

To  the  rocks  in  question  are  attached  a superstitious 
attribute  of  having  the  power  of  influencing  the  good 
or  bad  fortune  of  the  hunter.  They  are  supposed  to  be 
the  enchanted  form  of  some  genius  of  the  forest ; and  few 
Indians,  on  a hunting  mission  up  the  lake,  care  to  pass 
them  without  first  propitiating  the  spirit  of  the  rocks  by 
depositing  a small  offering  of  a piece  of  money,  tobacco, 
or  biscuit. 

“ That  will  do,  Capten  ; anything  a most  will  do,”  said 
Joe,  as  one  cut  off  a small  piece  of  tobacco,  and  another 
threw  a small  piece  of  biscuit  or  a potato  on  to  the  rock. 
“ Now  you  wouldn’t  b’lieve,  Capten,  that  when  you  come 
back  you  find  that  all  gone.  T give  you  my  word  that’s 
true ; we  always  find  what  we  leave  gone.”  Whereupon 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


95 


Joe  commenced  a series  of  illustrative  yarns,  showing  the 
dangers  of  omitting  to  visit  “ the  Grandmother/’  and  hoAV 
Indians,  who  had  passed  her,  had  shot  themselves  in  the 
woods,  or  had  broken  their  legs  between  rocks,  or  had 
violent  pains  attack  them  shortly  after  passing  the  rock, 
and  on  returning,  and  making  the  presents,  had  imme- 
diately recovered. 

“It  looks  as  if  it  were  going  to  be  calm  to-night,  Joe,” 
said  I,  as  we  neared  the  head  of  the  lake ; “ which  side 
are  we  to  camp  on  '?  Those  long  mossy  swamps  and 
boss  which  run  back  into  the  woods  on  the  western 
side,  look  likely  resorts  for  moose.” 

“Noplace  handy  for  camp  on  that  side,”  said  Joe; 
“ grand  place  for  moose,  though — guess  if  no  luck  to- 
morrow morniiT,  we  cross  there.  I got  notion  of  trying 
this  side  first.”  And  so,  having  beached  the  canoe, 
turned  her  over,  and  drawn  her  into  the  bushes  secure 
from  observation,  we  made  up  our  bundles,  apportioning 
the  loads,  and  followed  Joe  into  the  forest,  now  darkened 
by  the  rapidly  closing  shades  of  evening.  In  a very 
short  time  the  dripping  branches,  discharging  their  heavy 
showers  upon  us  as  we  brushed  against  them,  and  the 
saturated  moss  and  rank  fern,  made  us  most  uncomfort- 
ably wet ; and  as  the  difficulties  of  travelling  increased  as 
the  daylight  receded,  and  the  tight  wet  moccasin  is  not 
much  guard  to  the  foot  coming  in  painful  contact  with 
an  unseen  stump  or  rock,  we  were  not  sorry  when  the 
weary  tramp  up  the  long  wooded  slope  from  the  lake 
w^as  ended,  and  a faint  light  through  the  trees  in  the 
front  showed  that  we  had  arrived  at  the  edge  of  the 

O 

barrens.  “ It’s  no  use  trying  to  make  call  to-night,  that 
sartin,”  said  Joe  ; “ couldn’t  sec  moose  if  he  came.  Oh, 


96 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


dear  me,  I sorry  for  this  weather  ! Come,  Jem,  we  try 
make  camp  right  away/^  It  was  a cheerless  prospect,  as 
we  threw  off  our  bundles  on  the  wet  ground ; it  was 
quite  dark,  and,  though  nearly  calm,  the  drizzling  rain 
still  fell  and  pattered  in  large  drops,  falling  heavily  from 
the  tree-tops  to  the  ground  beneath.  First  we  must 
get  up  a good  fire — no  easy  thing  to  an  unpractised  hand 
in  woods  saturated  by  a week’s  rain.  However,  it  can 
be  done,  so  seek  we  for  some  old  stump  of  rotten  wood, 
easily  knocked  over  and  rent  asunder,  for  we  may,  per- 
haps, find  some  dry  stuff  in  the  heart.  Joe  has  found 
one,  and,  with  two  or  three  efforts,  over  it  falls  with  a 
heavy  thud  into  the  moss,  and  splits  into  a hundred 
fragments.  The  centre  is  dry,  and  we  return  to  the  spot 
fixed  upon  with  as  much  as  we  can  carry.  The  moss  is 
scraped  away,  and  a little  carefully-composed  pile  of  the 
dead  wood  being  raised,  a match  is  applied,  and  a cheer- 
ful tongue  of  flame  shoots  up,  and  illumines  the  dark 
woods,  enabling  us  to  see  our  way  with  ease.  Now  is  the 
anxious  time  on  which  depends  the  success  of  the  fire. 
A hasty  gathering  of  more  dry  wood  is  dexterously  piled 
on,  some  dead  hard-wood  trees  are  felled,  and  split  with 
the  axe  into  convenient  sticks,  and  in  a few  moments  we 
have  a rousing  fire,  which  will  maintain  its  ground  and 
greedily  consume  anything  that  is  heaped  upon  it,  in  spite 
of  the  adverse  element.  A few  young  fir  saplings  are 
then  cut,  and  placed  slantingly  against  the  pole  which 
rests  in  the  forks  of  two  upright  supports  ; the  canvas  is 
unrolled  and  stretched  over  the  ])rimitive  frame,  and  our 
camp  has  started  into  existence.  The  branches  of  the 
young  balsam  firs,  which  form  its  poles,  are  Avell  shaken 
over  the  fh-e,  and  disposed  in  layers  beneath,  to  form  the 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


97 


bed ; blankets  are  unrolled  and  stretched  over  the  boughs, 
and  finding,  to  my  joy,  that  the  rain  had  not  reached  the 
change  of  clothes  packed  in  my  bundle,  I presently  recline 
at  full  length  under  the  sheltering  camp,  in  front  of  a 
roaring  fire,  which  is  rapidly  vaporising  the  moisture 
contained  in  my  recent  garments,  suspended  from  the 
top  of  the  camp  in  front.  Joe  is  still  abroad,  providing 
a further  stock  of  firewood  for  the  night,  whilst  his  son 
is  squatting  over  the  fire  with  a well-filled  frying-pan, 
and  its  hissing  sounds  drown  the  pattering  of  the  rain- 
drops. 

After  our  comfortable  meal  followed  the  fragrant  weed, 
of  course,  and  a discussion  as  to  what  we  should  do  on 
the  morrow.  The  barrens  we  had  come  to  were  of  great 
extent,  and  of  a very  bad  nature  for  travelling,  the  ground 
being  most  intricately  strewed  with  the  dead  trees  of  the 
forest  which  once  covered  it,  and  the  briars  and  bushes 
overgromng  and  concealing  their  sharp  broken  limbs  and 
rough  granite  rocks,  often  cause  a severe  bruise  or  fall  to 
the  hunter.  It  was,  as  Joe  said,  a grand  place”  for 
calling  the  moose,  as  in  some  spots  the  country  could  be 
scanned  for  miles  around,  whilst  the  numerous  small 
bushes  and  rock  boulders  would  afford  a ready  conceal- 
ment from  the  quick  sight  of  this  animal.  However, 
time  would  show.  If  calling  could  not  be  attempted  next 
morning,  it  would  most  likely  be  suitable  for  creeping  ; 
so,  hoping  for  a calm  morning  and  a clear  sky,  or,  at  all 
events,  for  a cessation  of  the  rain,  we  stretched  ourselves 
for  repose  ; and  the  pattering  drops,  the  crackings  and 
snappings  of  the  logs  on  the  fire,  and  the  hootings  of  the 
owls  in  the  distant  forest,  became  less  and  less  heeded  or 
heard,  till  sleep  translated  us  to  the  land  of  di'cams. 


98 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


To  oLir  disgust  it  still  rained  when  we  awoke  next 
morning  ; tlie  wind  was  in  the  same  direction,  and  the 
same  gloomy  sky  promised  no  better  things  for  us  that 
day.  The  old  Indian,  however,  drew  on  his  moccasins, 
and  started  off  to  the  barren  by  himself  to  take  a survey 
of  the  country  whilst  the  breakfast  was  preparing,  and  I 
gloomily  threw  myself  back  on  the  blanket  for  another 
snooze.  After  an  hour  or  so’s  absence,  Joe  returned,  and 
sat  dovTi  to  his  breakfast  (we  had  finished  ours,  and  were 
smoking),  looking  very  wet  and  excited.  Two  moose 
pass  round  close  to  camp  last  night, said  he ; ‘'I  find 
their  tracks  on  barren.  They  gone  down  the  little  valley 
towards  the  lake,  and  I see  their  tracks  again  in  the 
woods  quite  fresh.  You  get  ready,  Capten;  I have  notion 
Ave  see  moose  to-day.  I see  some  more  tracks  on  the 
barren  going  southward ; however,  we  try  the  tracks 
near  camp  first, — maybe  we  find  them,  if  not  started  by 
the  smell  of  the  fire.’' 

We  were  soon  at  it,  and  left  our  camp  vfith  hopeful 
hearts  and  in  Indian  file,  stepping  lightly  in  each  other  s 
tracks  over  the  elastic  moss.  Everything  was  in  first-rate 
order  for  creeping  on  the  moose ; the  fallen  leaves  did 
not  rustle  on  the  ground,  and  CA^en  dead  sticks  bent  with- 
out snapping,  and  Ave  progressed  rapidly  and  noiselessly 
as  cats  toAvards  the  lake.  Preseutly  Ave  came  on  the 
tracks,  here  and  there  deeply  impressed  m a bare  spot  of 
soil,  but  on  the  moss  hardly  discernible  except  to  the 
Indian’s  keen  Ausion.  They  Avere  going  doAvn  the  A^alley; 
a little  brook  coursed  through  it  toAwards  the  lake,  and 
from  the  mossy  banks  sprung  graceful  bushes  of  moose- 
AA^ood  and  maple,  on  the  young  shoots  of  AAdiich  the  moose 
had  l)een  feeding  as  they  passed.  The  tracks  shoAved  that 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


99 


they  were  a young  bull  and  a cow,  those  of  the  latter  being 
much  longer  and  more  pointed.  Presently  we  came  to 
an  opening  in  the  forest,  where  the  brook  discharged 
itself  into  a large  circular  swamp,  densely  grown  up  with 
alder  bushes  and  swamp  maple,  with  a thick  undergrowth 
of  gigantic  ferns.  Joe  whispered,  as  we  stood  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill  overlooking  it,  ‘‘  Maybe  they  are  in  there 
lying  down;  if  not,  they  are  started;’’  and,  putting  to 
his  lips  the  conical  bark  trumpet  which  he  carried,  he 
gave  a short  plaintive  call — an  imitation  of  a young  bull 
approaching  and  wishing  to  join  the  others.  No  answer 
or  sound  of  movement  came  from  the  swamp.  “ Ah,  I 
afraid  so,”  said  Joe,  as  we  passed  round  and  examined 
the  ground  on  the  other  side.  “ I ’most  all  the  time  fear 
they  started ; they  smell  our  fire  this  morning  while  J em 
was  making  the  breakfast.”  Long  striding  tracks,  deeply 
ploughing  up  the  moss,  showed  that  they  had  gone  off  in 
alarm,  and  at  a swinging  trot,  their  course  being  for  the 
barrens  above.  It  was  useless  to  follow  them,  so  we  went 
off  to  another  part  of  the  barrens  in  search  of  fresh 
tracks.  The  walking  in  the  open  was  most  fatiguing 
after  the  luxury  of  the  mossy  carpeting  of  the  forest. 
Slipping  constantly  on  wet  smooth  rocks,  or  the  slimy 
surfaces  of  decayed  trees ; for  ever  climbing  over  masses 
of  prostrate  trunks,  and  forcing  our  way  through  tangled 
brakes,  and  plunging  into  the  oozing  moss  on  newly- 
inundated  swamps,  we  spent  a long  morning  without 
seeing  moose,  though  our  spirits  were  prevented  from 
flagging  by  constantly  following  fresh  tracks.  The  moose 
were  exceedingly  “yary,”  as  Joe  termed  it,  and  we  started 
two  or  three  pairs  without  either  hearing  or  seeing  them, 
until  the  same  exclamation  of  disappointment  from  the 


100 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Indian  proclaimed  the  unwelcome  fact.  At  length  we 
reached  the  most  elevated  part  of  the  barren.  We  could 
see  the  wooded  hills  of  the  opposite  shore  of  the  lake 
looming  darklj  through  the  mist,  and  here  and  there  a 
portion  of  its  dark  waters.  The  country  was  very  open; 
nothing  but  moss  and  stunted  huckleberry  bushes,  about 
a foot  and  a half  in  height,  covered  it,  save  here  and 
there  a bunch  of  dwarf  maples,  with  a few  scarlet  leaves 
still  clinging  to  them.  The  forms  of  prostrate  trunks, 
blackened  by  fire,  lying  across  the  bleached  rocks,  often 
gave  me  a start,  as,  seen  at  a distance  through  the  dark 
misty  air,  they  resembled  the  forms  of  our  long-sought 
game — particularly  so  when  surmounted  by  twisted  roots 
upheaved  in  their  fall,  which  appeared  to  crown  them 
with  antlers. 

‘‘  Stop,  Capten  ! not  a move  ! suddenly  whispered  old 
J oe,  who  was  crossing  the  barren  a few  yards  to  my  left ; 

don't  move  one  bit ! " he  half  hissed  and  half  said 
through  his  teeth.  Down — sink  down — slow — like 

me  ! " and  we  all  gradually  subsided  in  the  wet  bushes. 

I had  not  seen  him ; I knew  it  was  a moose,  though  I 
dared  not  ask  Joe,  but  quietly  awaited  further  directions. 
Presently,  on  Joe's  invitation,  I slowly  dragged  my  body 
through  the  bushes  to  him.  “ Now  you  see  him,  Capten — 
there — there ! My  sakes,  what  fine  bull ! What  pity 
we  not  a little  nearer — such  open  country  ! " 

There  he  stood — a gifrantic  fellow — black  as  niMit, 
moving  his  head,  which  was  surmounted  by  massive 
white-looking  horns,  slowly  from  side  to  side,  as  he 
scanned  the  country  around.  He  evidently  had  not  seen 
us,  and  was  not  alarmed,  so  we  all  breathed  freely.  This 
success  on  our  })art  was  partly  attributable  to  the  sudden- 


MOOSE  HUNTING. 


101 


ness  and  caution  with  which  we  stopped  and  dropped  when 
the  quick  eye  of  the  Indian  detected  him,  and  partly  to 
the  haziness  of  the  atmosphere.  His  distance  was  about 
five  hundred  yards,  and  he  was  standing  directly  facing 
us,  the  wind  blowing  from  him  to  us.  After  a little  de- 
liberation, Joe  applied  the  call  to  his  lips,  and  gave  out  a 
most  masterly  imitation  of  the  lowing  of  a cow-moose,  to 
aUure  him  towards  us.  He  heard  it,  and  moved  his  head 
rapidly  as  he  scanned  the  horizon  for  a glimpse  of  the 
stranger.  He  did  not  answer,  however ; and  J oe  said, 
as  afterwards  proved  correct,  that  he  must  have  a cow 
with  him  somewhere  close  at  hand.  Presently,  to  our  great 
satisfaction,  he  quietly  lay  down  in  the  bushes.  “ Now  we 
have  him,”  thought  I ; but  how  to  approach  him  ? ” 
The  moose  lay  facing  us,  partially  concealed  in  bushes, 
and  a long  swampy  gully,  filled  up  with  alders,  crossed 
the  country  obliquely  between  us  and  the  game.  We 
have  lots  of  time,  as  the  moose  generally  rests  for  a 
couple  of  hours  at  a time.  Slowly  we  worm  along  to- 
wards the  edge  of  the  alder  swamp ; the  bushes  are  pro- 
vokingly  short,  but  the  mist  and  the  dull  grey  of  our 
homespun  favour  us.  Gently  lowering  ourselves  down 
into  the  swamp,  we  creep  noiselessly  through  the  dense 
bushes,  their  thick  foliage  closing  over  our  heads.  Now 
is  an  anxious  moment — the  slightest  snap  of  a bough,  the 
knocking  of  a gun-barrel  against  a stem,  and  the  game 
is  off. 

“ Must  go  back,”  whispered  Joe,  close  in  my  ear  ; 
can't  get  near  enough  this  side — too  open and  the 
difficult  task  is  again  undertaken  and  performed  without 
disturbing  the  moose.  What  a relief,  on  regaining  our 
old  ground,  to  see  his  great  ears  flapping  backwards  and 


102 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACAOIE. 


forwards  above  the  bushes ! Another  half-hour  passes  in 
creeping  like  snakes  through  the  wet  bushes,  which  we 
can  scarcely  hope  will  conceal  us  much  longer.  It  seems 
an  age,  and  often  and  anxiously  I look  at  the  cap  of  my 
single-barrelled  rifle.  I am  ahead,  and  at  length,  judging 
one  hundred  and  twenty  yards  to  be  the  distance,  I can 
stand  it  no  longer,  but  resolve  to  decide  matters  by  a 
shot,  and  fire  through  an  opening  in  the  bushes  of  the 
swamp.  Joe  understands  my  glance,  and  placing  the  call 
to  his  lips,  utters  the  challenge  of  a bull-moose.  Slowly 
and  majestically  the  great  animal  rises,  directly  facing 
me,  and  gazes  upon  me  for  a moment ; a headlong  stagger 
follows  the  report,  and  he  wheels  round  behind  a clump 
of  bushes. 

‘‘  Bravo  ! you  hit  him,  you  hit  sure  enough,’’  shouts 
Joe,  levelling  and  firing  at  a large  cow-moose  which  had, 
unknown  to  us,  been  lying  close  beside  the  bull.  Come 
along,”  and  we  all  plunge  headlong  into  the  swamp. 
Dreadful  cramps  attacked  my  legs,  and  almost  prevented 
my  getting  through — the  result  of  sudden  violent  motion 
after  the  restrained  movements  in  the  cold  wet  moss  and 
huckleberry-bushes.  A few  paces  on  the  other  side,  and 
the  great  bull  suddenly  rose  in  front  of  us,  aud  strided 
on  into  thicker  covert.  Another  shot,  and  he  sank  life- 
less at  our  feet.  The  first  ball  had  entered  the  very 
centre  of  his  breast  and  cut  the  lower  portion  of  the 
heart. 

Late  that  night  our  canoe  glided  through  the  dark 
waters  of  the  lake  towards  the  settlement.  The  massive 
head  and  antlers  were  with  us. 

“ Ah,  Grandmother,”  said  Joe,  as  we  passed  the  indis- 
tinct outlines  of  the  spirit  rocks,  “ you  very  good  to  us 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


103 


this  time,  anyhow ; very  much  we  thank  you,  Grand- 
mother/’ 

“ It’s  a pity,  Joe,”  I observed,  that  we  have  not  time 
to  see  whether  our  offerings  of  yesterday  are  gone  or  not ; 
but  mind,  when  you  go  up  the  lake  again  to-morrow  to 
bring  out  the  meat,  you  don’t  forget  your  Grandmother, 
for  I really  think  she  has  been  most  kind  to  us.” 


MOOSE-CALLING. 

Few  white  hunters  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  the 
amount  of  skill  requisite  in  palming  off  this  strange 
deceit  upon  an  animal  so  cautious  and  possessing  such 
exquisite  senses  as  the  moose.  It  is  a gift  of  the  Indian, 
whose  soft,  well  modulated  voice  can  imitate  the  calls  of 
nearly  every  denizen  of  the  forest. 

As  has  been  stated  before,  September  is  the  first  month 
for  moose-calling,  the  season  lasting  for  some  six  weeks. 
I have  seen  one  brought  up  as  late  as  the  23rd  of 
October. 

The  moose  is  now  in  his  prime  ; the  great  palmated 
horns,  which  have  been  growing  rapidly  during  the 
summer,  are  firm  as  rock,  and  the  hitherto-protecting 
covering  of  velvet-like  skin  has  shrivelled  up  and  dis- 
appeared by  rubbing  against  stumps  and  branches,  leaving 
the  tines  smooth,  sharp,  and  ready  for  the  combat. 

The  bracing,  frosty  air  of  the  autumnal  nights  makes 
the  moose  a great  rambler,  and  in  a short  time  dis- 
tricts, which  before  would  only  give  evidence  of  his 
presence  by  an  occasional  track,  now  show  countless 
impressions  in  the  swamps,  by  the  sides  of  lakes,  and 


104 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


on  the  mossy  bogs.  He  has  found  his  voice,  too,  and, 
where  moose  are  numerous,  the  hitherto  silent  woods 
resound  with  the  plaintive  call  of  the  cow,  the  grunting 
response  of  her  mate,  and  the  crashings  of  dead  trees,  as 
the  horns  are  rapidly  drawn  across  them  to  overawe  an 
approaching  rival. 

This  call  of  the  cow-moose  is  imitated  by  the  Indian 
hunter  through  a trumpet  made  of  birch  bark  rolled  up 
in  the  form  of  a cone,  about  two  feet  in  length  ; and  the 
deceit  is  generally  attempted  by  moonlight,  or  in  the 
early  morning  in  the  twilight  preceding  sunrise — seldom 
after.  Secreting  himself  behind  a sheltering  clump  of 
bushes  or  rocks,  on  the  edge  of  the  forest  barren,  on  some 
favourable  night  in  September  or  October,  when  the 
moon  is  near  its  full,  and  not  a breath  of  wind  stirs  the 
foliage,  the  hunter  utters  the  plaintive  call  to  allure  the 
monarch  of  the  forest  to  his  destruction.  The  startling 
and  strange  sound  reverberates  through  the  country ; and 
as  its  echoes  die  away,  and  everything  resumes  the  won- 
derful silence  of  the  woods  on  a calm  frosty  night  in  the 
fall,  he  drops  his  birchen  trumpet  in  the  bushes,  and 
assumes  the  attitude  of  intense  listening.  Perhaps  there 
is  no  response  ; when,  after  an  interval  of  about  fifteen 
minutes,  he  ascends  a small  tree,  so  as  to  give  greater 
range  to  the  sound,  and  again  sends  his  wild  call  pealing 
through  the  woods.  Presently  a low  gTunt,  quickly 
repeated,  comes  from  over  some  distant  hill,  and  snappings 
of  branches,  and  falling  trees,  attest  the  approach  of  the 
bull ; perhaps  there  is  a pause — not  a sound  to  be  heard 
for  some  moments.  The  hunter,  now  doubly  careful, 
knowing  that  his  voice  is  criticised  by  the  exquisite  ear 
of  the  bull,  kneels  down,  and,  thrusting  the  mouth  of  his 


MOOSE-CALLING  BY  NIGHT. 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


105 


“ call  ” into  the  bushes  close  to  the  ground,  gives  vent  to 
a lower  and  more  plaintive  sound,  intended  to  convey  the 
idea  of  impatience  and  reproach.  It  has  probably  the 
desired  effect ; an  answer  is  given,  the  snappings  of 
branches  are  resumed,  and  presently  the  moose  stalks 
into  the  middle  of  the  moonlit  barren,  or  skirts  its  sides 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  A few  paces  further — a 
flash  and  report  from  behind  the  little  clump  of  concealing 
bushes,  and  the  great  carcass  sinks  into  the  laurels  and 
mosses  which  carpet  the  plains. 

Whatever  may  be  adduced  in  disfavour  of  moose- 
calling on  the  score  of  taking  the  animal  at  a disadvan- 
tage, it  is  confessedly  one  of  the  most  exciting  of  forest 
sports.  The  mysterious  sounds  and  features  of  night  life 
in  the  woods,  the  beauty  of  the  moonlight  in  America — 
so  much  more  silvery  and  bright  than  in  England — the 
anxious  suspense  with  which  the  hunter  regards  the  last 
flutterings  of  the  aspens  as  the  wind  dies  away,  and 
leaves  that  perfect  repose  in  the  air  which  is  so  necessary 
to  the  sport,  and  the  intense  feeling  of  sudden  excitement 
when  the  first  distant  answer  comes  to  the  wild  ringing 
call,  are  passages  of  forest  life  acknowledged  by  all  who 
have  experienced  them  as  producing  a most  powerful 
effect  on  the  imagination,  both  when  experienced  and  in 
memory. 

But  few  moose  are  shot  in  this  manner — very  few  in 
comparison  with  the  numbers  tracked  or  crept  upon — for 
the  per  centage  of  animals  that  are  thus  brought  up,  even 
by  the  best  Indian  caller,  is  very  small,  and  it  is  the 
attribute  of  native  hunters  in  every  wild  country  where 
there  are  large  deer — as  the  moose,  reindeer,  or  sambur — 
to  attain  their  object  by  imitation  of  their  voices. 


106 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


Another  method  of  calling  which  has  fallen  into  disuse 
was  formerly  practised  by  the  Indians  of  the  Lower  Pro- 
vinces in  the  faU.  The  hunter  secretes  himself  in  a 
swamp — one  of  those  damp  mossy  valleys  in  which  the 
moose  delights  at  this  season ; no  moon  is  required,  and 
his  companion  holds  an  immense  torch,  made  of  birch 
bark,  and  a match  ready  for  lighting  it.  The  moose 
comes  to  the  caU  far  more  readily  than  when  the  hunter 
is  on  the  open  barren  or  bog,  and,  when  within  distance, 
the  match  is  apphed  to  the  torch  ; the  resinous  bark  at 
once  flares  brightly,  illuminating  the  swamp  for  a long 
distance  round,  and  discovers  the  astonished  moose 
standing  amongst  the  trees,  and  apparently  incapable  of 
retreat.  The  Indians  say  that  he  is  fascinated  by  the 
light,  and  though  he  may  walk  round  and  round,  he  can- 
not leave  it,  and  of  course  ofiers  an  easy  mark  to  the 
rifle. 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  make  sure  of  a moose,  even 
should  he  be  within  pistol  range,  in  the  uncertain  moon- 
light ; chalk  is  sometimes  used,  the  better  to  show  when 
the  barrel  is  levelled.  A highly-pohshed  silver  bead  is 
the  best  for  a fore-sight,  as  it  catches  the  light,  and  is 
readily  discerned  when  the  alignment  is  obtained."^ 

Moose-calling  is  always  a great  uncertainty.  Some 
seasons  there  are  when  the  moose  will  not  come  so  readily 
as  in  others,  but  stop  after  advancing  for  a short  distance, 
and  remain  in  the  forest  for  hours  together,  answering 
the  call  whenever  it  is  made,  and  tearing  the  branches 
with  their  horns ; the  hunter,  his  patience  worn  out,  and 

* “ The  old  Bushman  ” recommended  for  shooting  large  game  at  night  a 
V-shaped  forked  stick  to  he  hound  on  the  muzzle,  stating  that  he  found  it 
of  great  ser\*ice.  Get  the  object  in  the  field  of  ^’iew  between  the  horns  of 
the  V and  you  are  pretty  sure  to  hit. 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


107 


stiff  with  cold  and  from  lying  so  long  and  motionless  in 
the  damp  bushes,  at  last  gives  it  up,  and  retires  to  his 
camp.  Should  there  be  the  slightest  wind,  moose  will 
always  take  advantage  of  it  in  coming  up  to  the  caller, 
and  endeavour  to  get  his  scent.  The  capacious  nostrils 
of  the  moose,  up  which  a man  can  thrust  his  arm,  show 
the  fine  powers  of  that  organ ; and  should  the  hunter 
have  crossed  the  barren  or  the  forest  intervening  betwixt 
him  and  the  approaching  bull  at  any  time  during  the 
day,  unless  heavy  rain  has  occurred  and  obliterated  the 
smell  of  his  track,  the  game  is  up ; not  another  sound  is 
heard  from  the  moose,  who  at  once  beats  a retreat,  and  so 
noiselessly,  that  the  hunter  often  believes  him  to  be  still 
standing,  quietly  listening,  when,  in  fact,  he  is  in  full 
retreat,  and  miles  away.  In  districts  where  moose  are 
very  numerous,  a number  of  bulls  will  reply  to  the  call  at 
the  same  time  from  different  parts  of  the  surrounding 
woods  ; and  in  such  cases  it  becomes,  as  the  Americans 
express  it,  ''  a regular  jam  f they  fear  one  another;  and, 
unless  one  of  them  is  a real  old  and  cares  for  nobody, 
cannot  be  induced  to  come  out  boldly,  though  they  do 
sometimes  try  to  cheat  one  another,  and  sneak  round  the 
edge  of  the  woods  very  quietly. 

Your  patriarch  moose,  however,  scorns  a score  of  rivals, 
and  goes  in  for  a fight  on  every  fitting  occasion  ; indeed, 
you  have  only  to  approach  him  when  with  his  partner  in 
the  thick  swamp,  and,  cracking  a bough  or  two,  put  the 
call  to  your  lips  and  utter  the  challenge-note  of  a bull. 
With  mad  fury  he  leaves  his  mate  and  crashes  through 
the  forest  towards  you,  and  then — shoot  him,  or  else 
stand  clear.  I have  known  this  plan  to  be  successfully 
carried  out  when  moose  have  been  started,  and  are  in  full 


108 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


flight ; the  imitation  of  a rival  bull  has  brought  the  moose 
suddenly  round  to  meet  his  doom  ; and  it  is  a very  com- 
mon practice  for  the  Indian  to  adopt,  when  a moose 
answers  but  will  not  come  to  the  call,  and  he  has  every 
reason  to  believe  that  he  is  already  accompanied  by  a cow. 

A few  falls  since  I was  in  the  woods  with  a companion 
and  an  excellent  Indian,  who  is  still  at  the  head  of  his 
profession,  John  Williams.  We  were  in  a hunting  district 
not  containing  many  moose,  being  too  much  surrounded 
by  roads  and  settlements,  but  very  accessible  from 
Halifax,  and  one  which  would  always  afford  a few  days’ 
hunting  if  the  ground  had  not  recently  been  disturbed. 
We  were  not  much  incumbered  with  baggage  ; the 
nature  of  our  movements  prevented  our  taking  much 
into  the  wood  beyond  the  actual  necessaries,  i.e.,  a small 
blanket  apiece,  which,  rolled  into  a bundle,  Indian  fashion, 
and  carried  across  the  back  by  a strap  passing  over  the 
chest  and  shoulders,  contained  the  ammunition,  a couple 
of  pairs  of  worsted  socks,  brushes,  combs,  &c.,  and  a few 
packages  of  tea,  sugar,  and  such  light  and  easily-stowed 
portions  of  the  commissariat.  The  Indian  carried  in  his 
bundle  the  heavier  articles — the  half  dozen  pounds  of 
fat  pork,  about  twice  that  amount  of  hard  pilot  bread, 
the  small  kettle  with  a couple  of  tin  pint  cups  thrust 
inside,  they  in  their  turn  being  filled  with  butter,  or  salt 
and  pepper,  or  perhaps  lucifers — anything,  in  fact,  which 
could  find  a place  and  fit  in  snugly  ; and  lastly,  and  as 
a matter  of  course,  a capacious  frying-pan,  made  more 
portable  by  unshipping  the  handle.  A large  American 
axe,  its  head  cased  in  leatlier,  passed  through  his  belt, 
from  which  were  suspended  the  broad  hunting-knife  in  an 
ornamented  moose-skin  sheath,  and  the  tobacco-pouch  of 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


109 


otter  or  mink-skin.  Our  suits  were  all  of  the  strong  grey 
homespun  of  the  country,  an  almost  colourless  material, 
and  on  that  account,  as  well  as  for  its  tendency  to  dry 
quickly  when  wet,  owing  to  its  porosity,  very  valuable 
to  the  hunter  as  a universal  cloth  for  every  garment. 

Thus  accoutred,  we  marched  through  the  forest  in  file, 
laying  down  our  bundles  now  and  then  to  follow  recent 
moose-tracks  which  might  cross  our  path,  and  to  ascertain 
the  whereabouts  of  the  game  with  regard  to  the  barrens 
towards  which  we  were  wending  our  way  with  the  object 
of  calling  the  moose.  The  previous  night  had  been 
passed  under  the  shelter  of  a grove  of  enormous  hem- 
locks, where  we  had  halted  on  our  journey  from  the 
settlements,  night  overtaking  us.  All  night  the  owls  had 
hooted  around  our  little  primitive  encampment — a sure 
sign  of  coming  rain ; and  their  melancholy  predictions 
were  this  morning  verified,  for  a damp,  misty  drizzle  beat 
in  our  faces  as  we  emerged  from  the  forest  on  a grassy 
meadow,  which  stretched  away  in  a long  valley,  and  was 
dotted  with  stacks  of  wild  meadow  hay.  It  was  one  of 
those  miniature  woodland  prairies  which  afford  the  settler 
such  plentiful  supplies  for  feeding  his  stock  in  winter,  and 
which  are  the  result  of  the  labours  of  the  once  abounding 
beaver,  and  enduring  monuments  of  its  industry. 

In  crossing  the  meadows  we  came  upon  traces  of  a very 
recent  struggle  between  a young  moose  and  a bear  : the 
bear  had  evidently  taken  advantage  of  the  long  grass  to 
steal  upon  the  moose,  and  take  him  at  a disadvantage  in 
the  treacherous  bog.  The  grass  was  much  beaten  down, 
and  deep  furrows  in  the  black  soil  below  showed  how 
energetically  the  unfortunate  moose  had  striven  to  escape 
from  his  powerful  assailant.  There  was  a broad  track. 


110 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


plentifully  strewed  with  moose  hair,  showing  how  the 
moose  had  struggled  with  the  bear  towards  the  woods, 
where  no  doubt  the  affair  was  ended,  and  the  bear  dined. 
The  full-grown  moose  is  far  too  powerful  an  animal  to 
dread  the  attack  of  the  bear ; it  is  only  the  unprotected 
calf,  separated  from  its  parent,  which  is  occasionally 
pounced  upon. 

We  reached  the  barren  that  afternoon,  wet  and  un- 
comfortable, and  were  right  glad  when  a roaring  fire 
rose  up  in  front  of  the  little  gipsy-like  camp,  partly 
of  cut  bushes  and  partly  of  birch  bark,  which  the 
Indian  constructed  for  us  in  the  middle.  We  did 
not  care  for  the  possibility  of  disturbing  any  stray 
moose  that  might  be  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  ; 
the  wind  was  rising  and  chasing  away  the  murky 
clouds  from  the  northward,  and  there  was  no  chance  of 
calling  that  night,  so  we  passed  the  afternoon  in  drying 
ourselves,  and  keeping  up  the  fire,  which  was  no  easy 
matter,  as  the  woods  skirting  the  barren  were  at  some 
distance,  and  the  barren  itself  offered  nothing  but  clumps 
of  wet  green  bushes,  moss-tufts,  ground  laurels,  and  rocks. 
The  night  was  clear  and  frosty,  as  is  generally  the  case 
after  rain  ; it  was  so  cold  that  we  could  not  sleep  much, 
and  our  wood  failed  us.  Once,  on  going  out  to  search  for 
some  sticks,  I heard  a moose  calling  in  the  thick  forest 
through  which  we  were  to  proceed  in  the  morning,  in 
search  of  more  distant  huntinof-PTounds. 

o o 

The  prospect  from  our  little  grotto  of  bushes,  as  we 
breakfasted  next  morning,  was  charming  ; the  tops  of  the 
maple-covered  hills,  which  sloped  down  towards  the 
barren  on  either  side,  were  delicately  tinged  with  warm 
brownish-red,  deepened  by  the  frost  of  the  previous  night; 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


Ill 


and  the  bushes  which  skirted  a little  lake  in  front  of  us, 
over  which  hung  a stationary  line  of  mist,  were  painted 
with  every  hue,  warmed  and  gilded  at  their  summits  by 
the  slanting  sun-rays.  There  was  the  delicate  rose-colour 
varying  to  blood-red  and  deep  scarlet,  of  the  smaller 
maples,  which  are  always  brightest  in  swampy  low  situa- 
tions, and  the  bright  golden  of  the  birches,  poplars,  and 
beeches.  Sometimes  a maple  was  wholly  painted  with 
the  darkest  claret,  whilst  in  another  a branch  or  two 
were  vermilion,  and  the  rest  of  the  foliage  of  vernal 
greenness. 

The  rank  patches  of  rhodora  were  tinged  with  a light 
pinkish  tint,  a pretty  contrast  to  the  rich  shining  green 
leaves  of  the  myrica  growing  with  the  former  shrub  in 
damp  spots.  The  flora  of  the  fall,  comprising  asters, 
golden  rods  and  wild-everlastings  were  all  out,  encircling 
the  pearly  grey  rocks  which  strewed  the  barren,  and 
every  bush  was  wreathed  with  lines  and  webs  of  little 
spiders,  marked  by  the  myriads  of  minute  dew-drops 
with  which  they  were  strung.  Gradually  warmed  by 
the  rays  of  the  sun  when,  overcoming  the  surrounding 
barrier  of  the  forest,  they  poured  over  the  whole  face  of 
the  scene,  the  little  barren  sparkled  like  fairy-land,  the 
morning  resolving  itself  into  one  of  those  glorious  days 
for  which  the  fall  of  the  year  is  noted  ; days  when  the 
light  seems  to  bring  out  colours  on  objects  which  you 
would  never  see  at  other  times;  when  all  nature  seems 
brightened  up  by  the  peculiar  state  of  the  atmosphere ; 
when  the  trees  seem  more  beautiful,  rocks  more  shapely, 
and  water  more  pellucid ; when  the  sky  has  a greater 
softness  and  depth  than  commonly,  and  one’s  own 
feelings  are  in  unison  with  all  around. 


112 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


On  such  a morning  the  clear,  affecting  notes  of  the 
hermit  thrush  seem  more  joyous  than  at  his  spring 
advent,  and  other  lingering  songsters — the  white-throated 
sparrow,  the  red-breasted  grosbeak,  and  the  well-known 
robin — pour  forth  their  strains  as  if  in  praise  for  the 
blessing  of  renewed  summer  life. 

Our  hunt  through  the  neighbouring  woods  that  fore- 
noon was  unsuccessful ; all  the  tracks,  though  recent, 
showed  that  the  moose  had  left  the  immediate  vicinity. 
The  going  ” was  bad,  and,  returning  to  camp,  we  deter- 
mined to  start  immediately  with  our  loads  for  some 
extensive  barrens,  of  which  the  Indian  knew,  at  a few 
miles’  distance. 

Our  path  lay  through  a large  evergreen  forest,  and  the 
walking  on  soft  feather-moss  was  most  refreshing  after 
the  painful  morning  s trudge  over  rocks  and  wind-falls. 
The  ground  was  gently  descending ; and  in  the  valley 
were  little  circular  swamps  and  bogs  where  the  firs 
showed  e^ddences  of  the  unhealthy  situation  by  their 
scant  foliage,  and  the  profuse  moss-beards  which  clung 
to  them. 

A dense  covert  of  fern,  coloured  a golden  brown  in  its 
autumnal  decay,  grew  in  the  swamp  : here  and  there  a 
bunch  of  bright  scarlet  leaves  of  swamp-maple  glowed 
amono'st  the  colourless  stems  of  rotted  trees. 

o 

In  situations  like  this  the  moose  likes  to  dwell  in  the 
fall,  and  frequent  tracks  attested  the  very  recent  presence 
of  these  animals  in  the  vaUey  through  which  we  were 
travelling.  Here  and  there  the  moss  was  scraped  up  in 
barrows-full,  and  the  dark  soil  beneath  hollowed  out  in  a 
pit,  giving  out  a strongly  ofiensive  odour  as  we  passed  ; 
in  fact,  the  moose  had,  as  AVilliams  told  us,  only  that 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


113 


morning  passed,  and  we  might  come  on  them  at  any 
moment.  We  now  travelled  with  great  caution ; any 
little  blunder  committed,  such  as  a slight  snap  caused 
by  stepping  on  a rotten  stick,  or  grazing  a gun-barrel 
against  a tree-stem,  was  invested  with  a plausible  ap- 
pearance by  the  Indian,  who  would  immediately  apply 
the  call  to  his  lips,  and  utter  a low  grunt,  as  it  were  a 
moose  walking  through  the  woods.  At  last  the  forest 
opened  ahead,  the  gloom  of  the  pines  gave  place  to 
brighter  light,  and  we  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  barren 
sought  for.  Below  us  lay  the  swamp  through  which  we 
had  followed  the  moose,  and  we  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing,  on  crossing  the  stagnant  brook  which  separated  it 
from  our  present  position,  the  mud  still  circling  where  the 
animals  had  passed.  They  had  just  crossed  it  before  us, 
and  taken  to  the  barren. 

The  barren,  which  was  at  some  elevation  above  the 
swampy  forest  we  had  recently  quitted,  sloped  from  us 
in  an.  undulating  wilderness  of  tangled  brakes  and  dead 
trees,  whose  tall,  bleached  forms  reared  themselves  like 
ghosts  in  the  fast  approaching  twilight.  It  was  quite 
calm — a delightful  evening  for  calling  — and  we  dis- 
encumbered ourselves  of  the  loads,  and  sat  down  in  the 
bushes  to  smoke  and  converse  in  low  tones  until  the 
moon  should  rise  and  mellow  the  twilight. 

Everything  was  perfectly  still,  except  the  occasional 
tap  of  the  woodpecker  on  the  decayed  trunk  of  some 
distant  rampike.  As  the  sun  sank  below  the  horizon, 
the  gentle  breeze  gradually  diminished,  and  now  not  a 
leaf  on  the  poplar  and  maple  bushes  around  us  flutters. 

“ Now,  John,”  I whispered  to  the  Indian,  “it  is  almost 
time  to  try  your  voice.  We  will  make  the  moose  hear 


I 


114 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


US  to-night,  if  there  are  any  in  these  woods.  Ah  ! did 
you  hear  that  ? Listen.’’ 

We  all  heard  it  plainly — a heavy  crash  of  branches  on 
the  barren  right  in  front  of  us  ; then  another,  followed  by 
a rush  through  the  bushes  of  some  evidently  large  animal ; 
then  came  the  call  of  the  cow-moose,  followed  by  the 
grunting  of  bulls. 

“ Two  or  three  of  ’em,”  said  John ; whole  crew 
fighting  in  little  swamp  just  ahead.  Grand  chance  this. 
Put  the  bundles  down  behind  the  rock  there,  so  as  moose 
can’t  see  them,  and  look  at  your  caps.” 

It  was  just  the  time  to  commence  calling — the  day- 
light had  quite  died  out,  and  the  young  moon,  nearly 
half  grown,  shed  an  uncertain  light  over  the  gray  rocks 
and  bare  gaunt  rampikes  of  the  barren.  We  moved  on 
to  a little  knoll  a few  yards  ahead,  whence  was  obtained 
a view  through  the  rocks  and  dead  trees  for  over  a hun- 
dred yards  in  the  direction  of  the  moose,  and  lay  down 
a few  paces  apart  in  the  thick  bushes  which  grew  some 
two  or  three  feet  high  everywhere. 

The  Indian  crouched  behind  a massive  trunk  near  us, 
and  we  anxiously  awaited  his  first  challenge  to  the 
moose,  which  were  in  a swampy  hollow  in  the  barren, 
not  more  than  500  yards  distant,  though  the  thickly 
standing  rampikes  and  rocks,  and  the  unevenness  of  the 
ground,  prevented  us  from  seeing  them.  He  seemed  to 
wait  long  and  hesitatingly  ; so  much  would  depend  upon 
the  skilfulness  of  his  first  call,  and  several  times  the  bark 
trumpet  was  withdrawn  from  his  lips  before  he  made  up 
his  mind  to  the  effort. 

At  length  he  called  ; softly,  and  with  a slight  quaver, 
the  plaintive  sound  was  drawn  forth,  apparently  from  the 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


115 


lowest  parts  of  his  throat,  checked  in  the  middle,  then 
again  resumed,  and  its  prolonged  cadences  allowed  gra- 
dually to  die  away.  It  was  a masterly  performance  ; and 
our  pulses  beat  high  as  the  echoes  returned  from  the 
sides  of  the  thick  forest  which  skirted  the  barren,  and  we 
listened  for  some  reply  from  the  moose. 

Then  followed  a prolonged  crashing,  as  if  a whole 
army  of  giants  was  forcing  its  way  through  the  brittle 
rampikes ; it  seemed  impossible  that  a moose  could  have 
caused  such  a tremendous  uproar — then  a pause,  and  the 
moose  answered  the  call — Quoh  ! quofh  ! He  was 
evidently  close  at  hand,  though  still  concealed  by  the 
closeness  of  the  covert ; and  we  were,  moreover,  lying 
crouched  as  flatly  as  possible  on  the  ground,  and  behind 
a little  rise  in  the  barren,  which  intervened  most  conve- 
niently. Here  he  remained  for  some  moments,  occasion- 
ally drawing  his  antlers  with  great  rapidity  and.  violence 
against  the  dead  stems  on  either  side,  and  making  the 
brittle  branches  fly  in  all  directions ; then  another  ad- 
vance, though  with  less  noise,  and  his  grunts  became  less 
frequent ; at  last,  a dead  stop,  and  not  a sound  for  some 
moments.  He  was  evidently  becoming  suspicious,  not 
seeing  the  object  of  his  desire  on  the  barren  before  him 
where  he  had  expected,  for  moose  have  a wonderful 
faculty  of  travelling  through  the  woods  towards  a sound 
if  only  once  heard.  I have  known  them  to  come  for 
miles,  and  straight  as  an  arrow,  to  the  exact  spot  where 
the  Indian  had  been  calling  an  hour  or  more  previously, 
having  left  it  in  consequence  of  not  hearing  the  answer. 

There  was  a slight  rustle  just  behind  us,  and,  looking 
round,  I perceived  the  Indian  rapidly  worming  his  way 
through  the  bushes,  gliding  like  a snake.  He  beckoned 


116 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


with  his  hand  for  us  to  remain  quiet,  and  I at  once 
divined  his  object;  he  was  making  for  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  some  hundred  yards  or  so  from  the  direction  of 
the  moose.  Presently  a few  loud  snappings  of  dead 
branches,  purposely  broken  by  the  Indian  as  soon  as  he 
had  reached  the  covert,  was  followed  by  the  weU-coun- 
terfeited  call.  The  ruse  succeeded ; the  suspicions  of 
the  bull  were  allayed,  and  the  horns  were  again  dashed 
against  the  stems  as  he  unhesitatingly  advanced  towards 
our  ambush.  At  length  we  can  plainly  hear  his  footsteps, 
and  the  rustling  of  the  little  bushes  ; every  now  and  then 
he  utters  a low,  satisfied  grunt  to  himself,  as  he  winds  up 
the  ascent.  Now  our  pulses  and  hearts  beat  so,  that  it 
becomes  a wonder  they  do  not  scare  the  moose,  and  we 
grasp  the  stocks  of  our  rifles  tightly  as  we  wait  for  his 
appearance.  Here  he  comes  ! The  moonlight  just  catches 
the  polished  surfaces  of  his  great  spreading  horns  ; a black 
mountain  seems  to  grow  out  of  the  barren  in  front,  and 
the  bull  stands  immediately  before  us,  his  gigantic  pro- 
portions standing  out  in  bold  relief  against  the  sky,  and 
clouds  of  hot  vapour  circling  from  his  expansive  nostrils, 
as  he  pauses  for  a moment  to  gaze  forward  from  the 
acquired  elevation.  He  must  see  the  glitter  of  the  moon- 
light on  our  barrels  as  they  are  raised  to  the  shoulder, 
but  it  is  too  late  for  retreat ; the  sharp  cracks  of  the  two 
rifles  proclaim  his  doom,  and  as  they  are  lowered  the 
great  moose  falls  heavily  over,  without  a pace  accom- 
plished in  retreat,  instantaneously  dead.  Our  wild  yell 
of  triumph  was  echoed  by  the  Indian  from  the  woods 
behind,  who  hastened  to  join  us  ; the  echoes,  so  strangely 
and  rudely  evoked  from  the  distant  forest,  gradually  fade 
away,  and  all  is  again  still,  save  where  a distant  crack 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


117 


marks  the  flight  of  the  startled  moose,  the  late  comrades 
of  our  noble  bull. 

Pretty  handy  on  to  five  feet,'’^  said  John,  as  he  with 
difficulty  raised  the  ponderous  head  from  the  bushes,  to 
display  the  breadth  of  the  antlers  ; that  s a great  moose, 
old  feller,  that  ; hind-quarters  weigh  goin’  on  for  a hun- 
dred and  fifty  weight  each ; we  have  to  get  two  or  three 
smart  hands  to  back  him  out.^’ 

The  night  was  now  far  advanced,  and  it  was  with 
well-earned  satisfaction  that  we  stretched  ourselves  in 
front  of  a roaring  fire,  wrapping  our  blankets  tightly 
round  us.  Though  frosty,  it  was  clear  and  calm ; we 
needed  no  camp,  and  John  dragged  up  log  after  log  of 
the  dead  dry  timber,  which  was  strewed  in  plentiful 
confusion  over  the  barren,  until  we  had  a fire  large 
enough  to  have  roasted  our  moose  whole.  The  kettle, 
filled  from  the  brook  below  in  the  swamp,  soon  boiled, 
and  after  a refreshing  cup  and  a biscuit  a-piece,  we  finally 
tightened  our  blankets  round  our  forms,  and,  with  pipes 
in  our  mouths,  gradually  dozed  off. 

Towards  the  morning^  is  the  coldest  time  of  the  nig^ht? 
and  I more  than  once  awoke  from  the  cold,  and  went  on 
the  barren  for  fresh  fuel  to  supply  the  quickly-decaying 
embers.  There  was  the  same  solemn  stillness  over  the 
face  of  that  wild  scene  : the  moon  was  down  long  since, 
but  a few  brilliant  streamers  of  the  aurora  played  in  the 
clear  sky  in  the  north,  and  by  their  light  I could  just 
discern  the  great  dark  form  of  the  moose  in  the  bushes, 
all  covered  with  the  thick  rime  frost,  and  guarded  by 
two  colossal  stems,  which  pointed  sternly  at  the  victim 
with  their  whitened  branches,  as  if  to  demand  vengeance 
for  the  death  of  the  forest  monarch.  At  intervals  the 


118 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


melancholy  and  deep-toned  hoot  of  the  eagle-owl  came 
from  the  recesses  of  the  woods,  and  at  length  the  effect 
became  so  unbearingly  solemn  and  mysterious,  that  I felt 
a relief  on  stepping  back  into  our  little  circle,  and  blew 
the  embers  lustily  until  spires  of  flame  seized  hold  of  the 
fresh  wood,  and  the  brilliant  fire-light  shut  out  the  som- 
breness of  the  dismal  nio^ht  scene. 

The  sun  w^as  long  up,  and  shone  brightly  in  our  faces 
ere  we  awoke  the  next  morning,  and  certain  indistinct 
sounds  of  frying  and  savoury  odours  were  mingled  with 
tha  latter  portions  of  our  dreams. 

Come  on,  Capten,’^  said  John ; come  on,  and  eat 
some  moose.  This  moose  be  very  tender  ; little  later  in 
the  fall  not  so  good,  though  ; soon  get  tough  and  black.’^ 

It  was  excellent,  not  partaking  of  the  rank  musky 
flavour  which  later  in  the  autumn  pervades  the  whole 
carcase.  John  fried  some  liver  for  himself,  and  we  all 
felt  more  inclined  to  bask  out  the  day  in  the  sun  than  to 
prepare  for  a start  homeward^  However,  a couple  of 
hours  found  us  plodding  through  the  forest,  the  Indian 
bearing  across  his  shoulders  the  broad  antlers,  which 
necessitated  great  management  to  insinuate  through  the 
denser  thickets.  J ohn,  however,  knew  a lumberer’s  path, 
leading  out  towards  the  settlement,  and  we  soon  had 
easy  walking.  Once  or  twice  a stream  must  be  crossed, 
and  it  was  most  interesting  on  such  occasions  to  watch 
the  ease  and  dexterity  with  which  the  Indian  would 
fell  a large  tree  to  serve  for  a bridge,  and,  heavily  bur- 
dened as  he  was,  cross  on  the  stem,  lopping  off'  the  inter- 
posing branches  as  he  proceeded,  to  prepare  it  for  our 
passage.  Poor  Williams  ! no  assistance  could  be  procured 
at  the  settlement ; and,  as  we  left  him  and  started  home- 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


119 


wards  with  our  trophy,  he  had  undertaken  to  retrace  his 
steps  alone  to  the  carcase  of  the  moose,  and  by  degrees 
bring  out  every  pound  of  the  meat  on  his  own  back. 
And  this  feat  he  performed,  though  the  distance  was 
fully  five  miles ; and  the  four  quarters,  exclusive  of  the 
head,  skin,  and  the  massive  neck,  would  weigh  more 
than  five  hundred  pounds.  We  far  from  envied  him  his 
task  and  the  long  trudge  in  the  lonely  forest. 


CHAPTEE  V. 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


THE  CAEIBOO. 

(Eangifer,  Hamilton  Smith  ; Rangifer  Caribou,  Auduhon  and  Bachman.) 

Muzzle  entirely  covered  with  hair ; the  tear  bag  small,  covered  with  a 
pencil  of  hairs.  The  fur  is  brittle  ; in  summer,  short ; in  vinter 
longer,  whiter  ; of  the  throat  longer.  The  hoofs  are  broad,  depressed, 
and  bent  in  at  the  tip.  The  external  metatarsal  gland  is  above  the 
middle  of  the  leg.  Horns,  in  both  sexes,  elongate,  subcylindric,  with 
the  basal  branches  and  tip  dilated  and  palmated  ; of  the  females 
smaller.  Skull  with  rather  large  nose  ca^dty  ; about  half  as  long  as 
the  distance  to  the  first  grinder  ; the  intermaxillary  moderate,  nearly 
reaching  to  the  nasal ; a small,  very  shallow,  suborbital  pit. 


The  above  diagnosis,  taken  from  Dr.  Gray’s  article  on 
the  Euminantia  in  the  Knowsley  menagerie,  seems  to 
embrace  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  reindeer  of  the 
sub-arctic  regions.  The  colour,  habits,  &c.,  of  the  variety 
designated  above  will  be  found  succeeding  the  following 
general  considerations.  As  a species  subject  to  but  slight 
local  variation  (with  one  possible  exception  in  the  case 
of  the  barren  ground  cariboo)  the  reindeer,  Cervus 
tarandus  of  Linnaeus,  rangifer  of  Hamilton  Smith,  in- 
habits both  the  old  and  the  new  worlds  under  similar 
circumstances  of  climate  and  natural  productions.  Its 
range  across  the  Northern  continents  of  Asia,  Europe  and 
America  is  almost  unbroken ; whilst  in  the  North 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


121 


Atlantic,  which  presents  the  only  serious  interruption 
to  its  circumpolar  continuity,  it  occurs  in  Iceland,  Green- 
land and  Newfoundland.  Sometimes  preferring  the 
barren  heights  of  the  Norwegian  fjells,  or  the  elevated 
plateaux  of  Newfoundland,  at  others  the  seclusion  of  the 
pine  forest  (as  with  the  woodland  cariboo  of  America), 
its  haunts  and  boundaries  are  always  determined  by  the 
distribution  of  those  mosses  and  lichens  which  almost 
exclusively  constitute  its  food — the  Cladonia  rangiferina 
or  reindeer  lichen,  with  two  or  three  species  of  Cornicu- 
laria  and  Cetraria. 

When  we  consider  the  great  antiquity  of  the  reindeer, 
and  its  occurrence  as  a true  fossil  mammal  coeval  with 
the  mammoth  and  other  gigantic  animals  now  extinct, 
in  connection  with  its  singular  adaptation  to  feed  on 
lichens — those  representatives  of  a primitive  vegetation 
which  are  still  engaged  in  preparing  a soil  for  higher 
forms  in  northern  latitudes — we  cannot  fail  in  recog- 
nising its  mission  as  an  animal  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance in  affording  food  and  clothing  to  the  primitive 
races  of  mankind  of  the  stone  age.  With  its  remains 
discovered  in  the  bone  caves  and  drift  beds  of  that 
period  are  associated  stone  arrow-heads  and  bone  imple- 
ments ; whilst  a resemblance  of  the  animal,  fairly  wrought 
upon  its  own  horn,  leaves  no  room  to  doubt  its  uses  as  a 
beast  of  the  chase,  though  probably  not  (in  those  savage 
times)  of  domestication. 

Even  in  Caesars  day  ancient  Gaul  was  a country  of 
gloomy  fir  forests  and  extensive  morasses,  and  its  climate 
more  like  that  of  Canada  at  present.  The  reindeer  also 
was  still  abundant  throughout  central  Europe  (though 
probably  it  had  long  since  disappeared  from  Great 


122 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Britain  and  the  south  of  France),  and  was  in  a state  of 
gradual  migration  to  its  present  northern  haunts.  A 
more  essentially  arctic  deer  than  the  elk,  the  reindeer, 
in  its  southern  extension,  is  found  with  the  latter 
animal  co-occupant  of  the  wooded  regions  which 
succeed  the  desert  plains  on  the  shores  of  the  Polar 
ocean,  termed  “ barren  grounds  on  the  American 
continent,  and  “ Tundras  in  Europe  and  Asia.  Its  most 
southern  limit  in  the  Old  World  is  reached  in  Chinese 
Tartary  in  lat.  50°.  A fact  mentioned  in  the  Natural 
History  Keview,  in  an  article  on  the  Mammalia  of  Amoor 
land,  may  be  here  quoted  as  showing  a singular  meeting 
of  northern  and  southern  types  of  animal  life.  It  is 
stated  that  the  Bengal  tiger,  ranging  northwards  occasion- 
ally to  lat.  52°,  there  chiefly  subsists  on  the  flesh  of  the 
reindeer,  whilst  the  tail-less  hare  (pika)  a polar  resident, 
sometimes  wanders  south  to  lat.  48°  where  the  tiger 
abounds.^ 

Following  an  ascending  isotherm  through  Siberia  and 
Northern  Kussia,  the  reindeer  comes  down  on  the  elevated 
table-lands  of  Scandinavia  to  latitude  60°,  ‘‘  wherever,^' 
as  Mr.  Barnard  observes  in  Sport  in  Norway,”  “ the 
altitude  is  above  the  limit  of  the  willow  and  the  birch.” 
From  the  latter  country  the  animal  was  successfully  in- 
troduced into  Iceland  in  1770  (a  similar  attempt  being 
made  at  the  same  time  to  acclimatize  it  in  Scotland, 
which  ended  in  failure),  and  has  since  so  multiplied  as 
to  be  regarded  with  disfavour  by  the  inhabitants,  who 
care  little  for  it  as  a beast  of  the  chase,  on  account  of  the 

* Erman  in  his  Siberian  travels,  speaking  of  the  fanna  of  Irkutsk,  in 
the  trans-Bakalian  districts,  says  : — “ We  see  the  Tunguze,  mounted  on  his 
reindeer,  passing  the  Buraet  with  his  camel,  and  discover  the  tigers  of  China 
in  the  forests  where  the  bear  is  taking  its  winter  sleep.” 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


123 


damage  it  does  to  the  grasses  and  Iceland  moss  on  the 
plains.  According  to  Professor  Paijkull,  author  of 
Summer  in  Iceland/'  the  desert  plains  south  of  Lake 
Myvatn  are  its  principal  resort. 

Crossing  the  Atlantic  to  the  south  of  Greenland,  which 
is  inhabited  by  the  variety  (or  species  V)  R.  Groenlandicus, 
the  American  reindeer,  now  termed  the  cariboo,  is  first 
met  with  in  Newfoundland.  It  is  abundant  on  the 
elevated  plateaux  and  extensive  savannahs  of  this  great 
island,  and  is  sometimes  seen  on  the  cliffs  even  at  Cape 
Pace. 

The  most  southerly  range  attained  by  the  species  on 
the  Atlantic  seaboard  of  North  America  is  determined  at 
Cape  Sable  in  Nova  Scotia,  in  lat.  43°  30',  or  about  that 
of  Marseilles.  In  this  province  the  cariboo  is  becoming 
very  scarce,  and  almost  altogether  restricted  to  the  high 
lands  of  Cape  Breton,  and  the  Cobequid  range  of  hills. 
It  is  not  found  in  Prince  Edward's  Island  or  in 
Anticosti. 

Tolerably  abundant  in  New  Brunswick  and  the  ad- 
joining portion  of  Canada  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence  to 
the  latitude  of  Quebec,  of  rarer  occurrence  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  we  find  the  home  of  the  woodland  cariboo 
in  the  great  belt  of  coniferous  forest  which  in  Upper 
and  Lower  Canada  extends  northwards  from  the  basin  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  over  an  immense  wilderness  country, 
and  embraces  the  southern  area  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
basin.  From  the  western  shore  of  Lake  Superior,  and 
at  some  distance  back  from  the  prairie  country,  the  line 
of  its  range  across  the  continent  curves  to  the  north- 
west, following  the  rapidly  ascending  isotherm  into 
the  Valley  of  the  Mackenzie,  and  thence  crossing  the 


124 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Kocky  Mountains,  passes  into  the  American  territory 
of  Alaska. 

Accordino^  to  Mr.  Lord"'  it  inhabits  the  hi^h  rido-es  of 
the  Cascade  Mountains,  the  Galton  range  and  western 
slope  of  the  Eocky  Mountains  in  British  Columbia. 

In  evidence  of  the  transmission  of  the  cariboo  into 
Eastern  Asia,  it  is  stated  by  Dr.  Godman  that  it  crosses 
from  Behring^s  strait  to  Kamschatka  by  the  Aleutian 
islands. 

Closely  associated  with  man  in  a state  of  semi- 
domestication  in  Siberia  and  Lapland,  the  wild  rein-deer 
also  largely  contributes  to  the  support  of  the  various 
nomadic  tribes  of  these  countries,  by  whom  it  is 
slaughtered  on  the  paths  of  its  two  great  annual  migra- 
tions. In  America  likewise,  though  no  attempt  has 
been  made  to  convert  the  cariboo  into  a beast  of  burden, 
its  flesh  is  the  mainstay  of  many  wandering  Indian 
tribes  who  inhabit  the  subarctic  forest  region  from 
Labrador  to  the  northern  spurs  of  the  Eocky  Mountains, 
and  its  skin  their  principal  resource  for  clothing.  In  its 
distribution  across  the  American  continent,  indicated 
above,  it  is  pursued  in  the  chase  by  the  Montagnais  and 
Nasquapee  Indians  of  Labrador,  the  Crees  and  Chipe- 
wyans  of  Hudson’s  Bay,  and  the  Dog-ribs  and  other  tribes 
of  the  Mackenzie  Valley.  To  the  Micmacs,  Mahcites  and 
others,  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  it  is  no  longer  indis- 
pensable as  a staple  of  subsistence ; they  are  now 
intimately  associated  with  the  civilisation  of  the  white 
man,  who  completely  possesses  their  hunting-grounds, 
and  with  whose  mode  of  life  they  partially  comply  ; but 
to  the  wilder  races  designated  above,  its  gradual  dis- 
* The  Naturalist  in  British  Columhia. 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


125 


appearance  must  bring  starvation  and  a corresponding 
progress  towards  extinction. 

With  regard  to  the  barren  ground  cariboo  (R. 
Groenlandicus)  being  distinct  from  the  larger  animal  of 
the  forests,  the  separation  of  the  two  as  species  by 
Professor  Baird  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  at 
Washington  in  the  description  of  North  American  mam- 
mals, which  accompanies  the  War  Department  Reports 
of  the  Pacific  Route,  joined  with  the  opinion  expressed 
by  Sir  John  Richardson  in  his  “Journal  of  a Boat 
Voyage  through  Rupert’s  Land  and  the  Arctic  Sea,”  and 
the  further  testimony  of  Dr.  King,  surgeon  to  Back’s 
expedition,  appears  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt.  Mr. 
Baird  says  “ the  animal  is  much  smaller  than  the  wood- 
land reindeer ; the  does  not  being  larger  than  a good 
sized  sheep.”  The  average  weight  of  ninety-four  deer  shot 
in  one  season  by  Captain  M'Clintock’s  men,  when  cleaned 
for  the  table,  was  sixty  pounds.  “ A full-grown,  well-fed 
buck,”  says  Sir  J.  Richardson,  “ seldom  weighs  more  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  after  the  intestines  are 
removed.  The  bucks  of  the  larger  kind  which  were  men- 
tioned as  frequenting  the  spurs  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
near  the  Arctic  circle,  weigh  from  two  hundred  pounds  to 
three  hundred  pounds,  also  without  the  intestines.”  He 
also  states  that  “ this  kind  does  not  penetrate  far  into  the 
forest  even  in  severe  seasons,  but  prefers  keeping  in  the 
isolated  clumps  or  thin  woods  that  grow  on  the  skirts  of 
the  barren  grounds,  making  excursions  into  the  latter  in 
fine  weather.”  Dr.  King  mentions  that  the  barren- 
ground  species  is  peculiar  not  only  in  the  form  of  its 
liver,  but  in  not  possessing  a receptacle  for  bile.  This 
species  ranges  along  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  and 


126 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  Hudsons  Bay,  above  the  northern  limit  of  forest 
growth ; it  inhabits  Melville  and  other  islands  of  the 
Arctic  archipelago,  and  is  found  in  Greenland. 

The  cariboo  of  the  forests  of  Lower  Canada,  New- 
foundland and  Nova  Scotia,  which  we  now  proceed  to 
describe,  seems  to  attain  in  this  portion  of  America,  the 
finest  development  of  which  the  species  is  susceptible. 
It  is  a strongly-built,  thick-set  animal,  (that  is  by  com- 
parison with  the  more  graceful  of  the  CerHdse),  yet  far 
from  being  as  ungainly  and  slouching  as  the  Norwegian 
reindeer  is  commonly  depicted  in  drawings,  though 
these  are  probably  generally  taken  from  domesticated 
specimens,  which  they  resemble  much  more  closely  than 
they  do  the  wild  deer  of  the  mountains.  A very  large 
buck  in  NevToundland  will  exceed  four  hundred  pounds 
in  weight,  and  measure  over  four  feet  in  height  at  the 
shoulder.  I have  seen  a cariboo  in  Nova  Scotia  that 
must  have  considerably  exceeded  four  feet  six  inches  in 
height,  and  was  thought  by  the  Indian  at  a distance  off 
to  have  been  a moose. 

Eeindeer  of  a similar  development,  and  in  colour 
closely  resembling  the  cariboo  of  Eastern  America,  were 
met  with  by  Erman  in  Eastern  Asia,  where  they  are  used 
for  the  saddle  (placed  on  the  shoulder — the  only  part  of 
the  back  where  the  deer  can  support  a load)  by  the 
Tunguzes.  He  states  that  the  Lapland  reindeer  of 
menageries  and  museums  appeared  to  him  but  dwarfs  in 
comparison  with  those  of  Northern  Asia,  and  vfith  their 
size  and  strength  seemed  also  to  have  lost  much  of  their 
beauty  of  form.""  Certainly  the  cariboo  of  Nova 

* Speaking  of  the  Tunguzes,  Erman  says  : — “ Tlie  charm  of  their  look 
lies  in  their  slim  and  active  figure,  as  also  in  their  constant  connection  with 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


127 


Scotia  or  New  Brunswick,  as  I have  seen  them,  grace- 
fully trotting  over  the  plains  on  light  snow,  and  in  Indian 
file,  or,  when  alarmed,  circling  round  the  hunter  with 
neck  and  head  braced  up  and  scut  erect,  stepping  with 
an  astonishing  elasticity  and  spring,  is  a noble  creature 
in  comparison  with  the  specimens  of  the  reindeer  of 
Northern  Europe  that  have  appeared  in  the  Society’s 
gardens  at  Regent’s  Park : they  are,  nevertheless,  in- 
dubitably the  same  species  and  simply  local  varia- 
tions. 

The  colour  of  the  American  cariboo,  as  described  by 
Audubon  and  Bachman,  is  as  follows  : — ■ 

“Tips  of  hairs  light  dun  gray,  whiter  on  the  neck  than 
elsewhere  ; nose,  ears,  outer  surface  of  legs  and  shoulders 
brownish.  Neck  and  throat  dull  white ; a faint  whitish 
patch  on  the  side  of  shoulders.  Belly  and  tail  white  ; a 
band  of  white  around  all  the  legs  adjoining  the  hoofs.” 
From  this  general  description  there  is,  however,  consider- 
able variation.  Bucks  in  their  prime  are  often  of  a rich, 
rufous-brown  hue  on  the  back  and  legs,  having  the  neck 
and  pendant  mane,  tail  and  rump,  snow-white.  A patch 
of  dark  hair,  nearly  black,  appears  on  the  side  of  the 
muzzle  and  cheek.  As  the  hair  grows  in  length,  towards 
the  approach  of  winter,  it  lightens  considerably  in  hue  : 
individuals  may  frequently  be  seen  in  a herd  with  coats 
of  the  palest  fawn  colour,  almost  white.  Young  deer  are 
dappled  on  the  side  and  flank  with  light  sandy  spots. 
The  white  mane,  reaching  to  over  a foot  in  length  in  old 
males,  which  hangs  pendant  from  the  neck  with  a graceful 

one  of  the  handsomest  of  animals  ; for  wlien  one  sees  a Tungu/e  sit,  with 
the  proudest  deportment,  on  his  reindeer,  they  both  seem  made  for  eacli 
other,  and  it  is  hard  to  decide  whether  the  reindeer  lends  grace  to  the  rider 
or  borrows  it  from  him.” — Travels  in  Siberia,  by  Adolph  Erman. 


128 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


curve  to  the  front,  is  one  of  the  most  noticeable  and 
ornamental  attributes  of  the  species. 

The  horns  of  different  specimens  vary  greatly  in  form 
both  as  regards  the  development  of  palmation  and  the 
position  of  the  principal  branches.  As  a general  rule, 
the  horns  of  the  Norwegian  reindeer  are  (according  to 
my  impression)  less  subject  to  palmation  of  the  main 
shaft,  which  is  longer,  and  broadens  only  at  the  top 
where  the  principal  tines  are  thrown  off.  I have,  how- 
ever, met  with  precisely  the  same  form  in  antlers  from 
the  Labrador.  The  accompanying  figures  will  illustrate 
the  forms  alluded  to.  The  middle  snag  of  the  cariboo’s 
horn  is  also  more  developed  than  in  the  case  of  the 
European  variety. 

In  most  instances  there  is  but  one  well-developed 
brow  antler,  the  other  being  a solitary  curved  prong ; 
sometimes,  however,  as  shown  in  the  illustration,  very 
handsome  specimens  occur  of  two  perfect  brow  snags 
meeting  in  front  of  the  forehead,  the  jirongs  interweaving 
like  the  fingers  of  joined  hands. 

Except  in  the  case  of  the  does  and  young  bucks, 
which  retain  theirs  tiU  spring,  it  is  seldom  that  horns  are 
seen  in  a herd  of  cariboo  after  Christmas.  The  reason 
to  which  the  retention  of  the  horns  by  the  female  reindeer 
during  winter  has  been  attributed  by  some  speculative 
writers — namely,  in  order  to  clear  away  the  deep  encrusted 
snow,  and  enable  her  fawns  to  get  at  the  moss  beneath 
— is  simply  wrong.  The  animal  never  uses  any  other 
means  than  its  hoofs  to  scrape  for  its  moss ; whilst  the 
thin  sharp  prongs  of  the  doe  would  prove  anything  but  an 
efficient  shovel.  The  latter  and  true  mode  of  proceeding 
1 have  often  watched  when  wonninor  throuffii  the  bushes 

O O 


HORNS  OF  THE  CARIROO. 

1.  The  ordinary  Canadian  type. 

2.  Cariboo  horns  from  Newfoundland. 

3.  Horns  from  Labrador. 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


129 


round  tlie  edge  of  a barren  to  get  a shot.  Both  Mr.  Bar- 
nard, and  the  author  of  “ Ten  Years  in  Sweden,’'  allude 
to  the  female  reindeer  using  her  horns  in  winter  to  pro- 
tect the  fawns  from  the  males,  thus  rightly  accounting 
for  this  singular  provision  of  nature  in  the  case  of  a 
gregarious  species  in  which  the  males,  females,  and 
young  herd  together  at  all  seasons. 

Another  misrepresentation  has  appeared  with  regard 
to  the  reindeer  : it  has  been  compared,  when  obliged  to 
cross  a lake  on  ice,  to  a cat  on  walnut-shells ! I cannot 
conceive  any  variation  in  a point  so  intimately  connected 
with  its  winter  habits  on  the  part  of  the  European  rein- 
deer, if  the  two  are,  as  I believe,  identical  in  configura- 
tion and  subservience  to  existence  under  precisely  similar 
circumstances ; but  for  the  cariboo  I can  aver  that  its 
foot  is  a beautiful  adaptation  to  the  snow-covered  country 
in  which  it  resides,  and  that  on  ice  it  has  naturally  an 
advantage  similar  to  that  obtained  artificially  by  the 
skater.  In  winter  time  the  frog  is  almost  entirely  ab- 
sorbed, and  the  edges  of  the  hoof,  now  quite  concave, 
grow  out  in  thin  sharp  ridges ; each  division  on  the 
under  surface  presenting  the  appearance  of  a huge 
mussel-shell.  Accordino:  to  “ The  Old  Hunter,”  who  has 
kindly  forwarded  to  me  some  specimens  shot  by  himself 
in  Newfoundland  in  the  fall  of  1867  for  comparison  with 
examples  of  my  own  shot  in  winter,  the  frog  is  absorbed 
by  the  latter  end  of  November,  when  the  lakes  are 
frozen  ; the  shell  grows  with  great  rapidity,  and  the 
frog  does  not  fill  up  again  till  spring,  when  the  antlers 
bud  out.  With  this  singular  conformation  of  the  foot, 
its  great  lateral  spread,  and  the  additional  assistance 
afibrded  in  maintaining  a foot-hold  on  slippery  surfaces 


130 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


by  the  long  stiff  bristles  which  grow  downwards  at 
the  fetlock,  curving  forwards  underneath  between 
the  dmsions,  the  cariboo  is  enabled  to  proceed  over 
crusted  snow,  to  cross  frozen  lakes,  or  ascend  icy  pre- 
cipices with  an  ease  which  places  him,  when  in  flight, 
beyond  the  reach  of  all  enemies,  except  perhaps  the 
nimble  and  untiring  wolf. 

The  j)ace  of  the  cariboo  when  started  is  like  that  of 
the  moose,  a long,  steady  trot,  breaking  into  a brisk  walk 
at  intervals  as  the  point  of  alarm  is  left  behind.  He 
sometimes  gallops,  or  rather  bounds,  for  a short  distance 
at  first ; this  the  moose  never  does,  '\\dien  thoroughly 
alarmed,  he  will  travel  much  further  than  the  moose ; 
the  hunter  having  disturbed,  missed,  or  slightly  wounded 
the  latter,  may,  by  following  him  up,  very  probably  get 
several  chances  again  the  same  day.  Such  is  seldom  the 
case  in  cariboo  hunting,  even  in  districts  where  the 
animals  are  rarely  distm^bed.  Once  ofi*,  unless  wounded, 
you  do  not  see  them  again. 

The  cariboo  feeds  principally  on  the  Cladonia  rangi- 
ferina,  with  which  barrens  and  all  permanent  clearings  in 
the  fir  forest  are  thickly  carpeted,  and  which  appears  to 
grow  more  luxuriantly  in  the  subarctic  regions  than  in 
more  temperate  latitudes.  Mr.  Hind,  in  “Explorations 
in  Labrador,’'  describes  the  beauty  and  luxuriance  of  this 
moss  in  the  Laurentian  country,  “ with  admiration  for 
which,”  he  says,  “ the  traveller  is  inspired,  as  well  as  for 
its  wonderful  adaptation  to  the  climate,  and  its  value  as 
a source  of  food  to  that  mainstay  of  the  Indian,  and  con- 
sequently of  the  fur  trade  in  these  regions — the  caribou.” 
The  recently-announced  discovery  l)y  a French  chemist 
who  has  succeeded  in  extracting  alcohol  in  large  quanti- 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


131 


ties  from  lichens,  and  especially  from  the  reindeer  moss 
(identical  in  Europe  with  that  of  America),  is  interesting 
and  readily  suggests  the  value  of  this  primitive  vegeta- 
tion in  supporting  animal  life  in  a Boreal  climate  as  a 
heat-producing  food.  Besides  the  above,  which  appears 
to  be  its  staple  food,  the  cariboo  partakes  of  the  tripe  de 
rocJie  (Sticla  pulmonaria)  and  other  parasitic  lichens 
growing  on  the  bark  of  trees,  and  is  exceedingly  fond 
of  the  Usnea,  which  grows  on  the  boughs  (especially 
affecting  the  top)  of  the  black  spruce,  in  long,  pendant 
hanks.  In  the  forests  on  the  Cumberland  Hills,  in  Nova 
Scotia,  I have  observed  the  snow  quite  trodden  down 
during  the  night  by  the  cariboo,  which  had  resorted  to 
feed  on  the  old  maAs  beards  in  the  tops  of  the  spruces 
felled  by  the  lumberers  on  the  day  previous.  In  the 
same  locality  I have  observed  such  frequent  scratchings 
in  the  first  light  snow  of  the  season  at  the  foot  of  the 
trees  in  beech  groves,  that  I am  convinced  that  the 
animal,  like  the  bear,  is  partial  to  the  rich  food  afforded 
by  the  mast. 

I am  not  aware  that  a favourite  item  of  the  diet  of  the 
Norwegian  reindeer— Eanunculus  glacialis — is  found  in 
America,  and  the  woodland  cariboo  has  no  chance  of  ex- 
hibiting the  strange  but  weU-authenticated  taste  of  the 
former  animal  by  devouring  the  lemming ; otherwise  the 
habits  of  the  two  varieties  are  perfectly  similar  as  regards 
food. 

The  woodland  cariboo,  like  the  Laplander  s reindeer, 
is  essentially  a migratory  animal.  There  are  two  well- 
defined  periods  of  migration — in  the  spring  and  autumn — 
whilst  throughout  the  winter  it  appears  constantly  seized 
with  an  unconquerable  desire  to  change  its  residence. 


132 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  great  periodic  movements  seem  to  result  from  an 
instinctive  impulse  of  the  reindeer  throughout  its  whole 
circumpolar  range.  Sir  J.  Eichardson,  in  America,  Erman 
and  Von  Wrangell,  in  Northern  Europe  and  Asia — the 
three  distinguished  savants  who  have  contributed  so 
largely  to  the  natural  history  of  the  northern  regions — 
all  affirm  the  regularity  of  its  migrations  to  the  open 
steppes,  barren  grounds,  and  bare  mountains,  and  point 
to  the  chief  cause — a desire  to  escape  the  insupportable 
torments  of  the  flies  which  swarm  in  the  forest.  In 
Newfoundland  the  cariboo  acts  in  a manner  precisely 
similar  to  that  described  by  Wrangell,  in  speaking  of  the 
reindeer  of  the  Aniui.  They  leave  the  lake  country  and 
broad  savannahs  of  the  interior  for  the  mountain  range 
which  covers  the  long  promontory  terminating  at  the 
Straits  of  Belleisle,  at  the  commencement  of  summer, 
and  return  when  warned  by  the  frosts  of  September  to 
seek  the  lowlands.  At  this  time  the  deer  passes,  and 
valleys  at  the  head  of  the  Bay  of  Exploits  may  be  seen 
thick  with  deer  moving  in  long  strings ; and  here  the  Bed 
Indians  of  a past  age,  like  the  hunters  of  the  Aniui, 
would  congregate  to  kill  their  winter  s supply  of  venison. 

With  regard  to  the  restlessness  of  this  animal  at 
intervals  in  the  forest  country  in  winter  time,  I have 
frequently  observed  a sudden  and  contemporary  shift  of 
all  the  cariboo  throughout  a large  area  of  country.  One 
day  quietly  feeding  through  the  forest  in  little  bands,  the 
next,  perhaps,  all  tracks  would  show  a general  move  in 
a certain  direction ; the  deer  joining  their  parlies  after 
a while,  and  entirely  leaving  the  district,  travelling  in 
large  herds  towards  new  feeding-grounds,  almost  invari- 
ably down  the  wind.  The  little  Arctic  reindeer  of  North 


THE  AMERICAN  REINDEER. 


133 


America  is  far  less  migratory  in  its  habits  than  the  larger 
species,  and  with  the  musk-sheep  (ovibos)  remains  in  the 
same  localities  throughout  the  year. 

In  forest  districts,  in  many  parts  of  its  range  over  the 
Northern  American  continent,  the  cariboo  is  found  to- 
gether with  the  moose  in  the  same  woodlands.  They 
appear,  however,  to  avoid  each  other  s company ; and  I 
have  observed  in  following  the  tracks  of  a travelling  band 
of  cariboo,  that,  on  passing  a fresh  moose-yard,  they  have 
broken  into  a trot — a sure  sign  of  alarm.  In  many 
districts,  especially  those  in  which  the  existing  southern 
limits  of  the  cariboo  are  marked,  this  animal  is  gradually 
disappearing,  whilst  the  moose  is  taking  its-  place.  To  a 
great  extent  this  is  the  result  of  an  increasing  settlement 
of  the  country  by  man.  The  moose  is  a much  more 
domestic  animal  in  its  habits,  and  will  remain  and 
multiply  in  any  small  forest  district,  however  the  latter 
may  be  surrounded  by  roads  or  settlements  ; whereas  the 
cariboo  is  a great  wanderer,  and  requires  long  and 
unbroken  ranges  of  wild  country  in  which  he  can 
uninterruptedly  indulge  his  vagrant  habits.  Being  more- 
over more  jealous  of  the  advance  of  civilisation  than  the 
moose,  he  is  surely  disappearing  as  his  old  lines  of 
periodic  migration  are  encroached  upon  and  broken  by 
new  settlements  and  their  connecting  roads. 

In  winters  of  great  severity  the  cariboo  always  travel 
to  the  southernmost  limits  of  their  haunts,  which 
they  occasionally  exceed  and  enter  the  settlements. 
Some  years  ago,  during  an  unusually  cold  winter,  the 
deer  crossed  in  large  bands  from  Lalnador  into  New- 
foundland over  the  frozen  straits.  As  assumed  by  Dr. 
Gray,  a variety  appears  to  be  established  in  the  case  of 


134 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


tlie  NewfoundlaiLcI  cariboo.  These  deer  certainly  attain 
a greater  development  than  the  generality  of  the  speci- 
mens shot  on  the  continent : I have  heard  of  bucks 
weighing  six  hundred  pounds,  and  even  over.  The 
general  colour  of  the  former  animals  is  lighter — to  be 
accounted  for,  perhaps,  by  the  fact  that  Newfoundland 
is  a far  more  open  country  than  the  eastern  parts  of 
Canada  and  the  Lower  Provinces.  The  herds  are  more- 
over comparatively  undisturbed,  and  the  moss  grows  in 
the  greatest  profusion.  I have  seen  the  fat  taken  off  the 
loins  of  a Newfoundland  deer  o the  depth  of  two  inches. 
Further  particulars  concerning  the  cariboo  on  this  island 
and  its  migrations  will  be  found  in  a chapter  on  New- 
foundland. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 

The  cariboo  of  the  British  provinces  is  only  to  be 
approached  by  the  sportsman  with  the  assistance  of  a 
regular  Indian  hunter.  In  old  times  the  Indians  pos- 
sessed and  practised  the  art  of  calling  the  buck  in  Sep- 
tember, as  they  now  do  the  bull  moose,  the  call-note  being 
a short  hoarse  bellow;  this  art  however  is  lost,  and  at 
the  present  day  the  animal  is  shot  by  stalking  or 
“ creeping  as  it  is  locally  termed,  that  is,  advancing 
stealthily  and  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Indian,  bearing  in  mind 
the  hopelessness  of  success  should  sound,  sight  or  scent 
give  warning  of  approaching  danger.  As  with  the  moose, 
the  latter  faculty  seems  to  impress  the  cariboo  most  with 
a feeling  of  alarm,  which  is  evinced  at  an  almost  in- 
credible distance  from  the  object,  and  fully  accounted  for, 
as  a general  fact,  by  the  size  of  the  nasal  cavity,  and  the 
development  of  the  cartilage  of  the  septum.  As  the 
cariboo  generally  travels  and  feeds  down  wind,  the 
wonderful  tact  of  the  Indian  is  indispensable  in  a forest 
country,  where  the  game  cannot  be  sighted  from  a dis- 
tance as  on  the  fjelds  of  Scandinavia,  or  Scottish  hills. 
Of  course,  however,  on  the  plateaux  of  Newfoundland 
and  Labrador,  and  on  the  large  carilioo-plains  of  Nova 
Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  less  Indian  craft  is  brought 


136 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


into  play,  and  tlie  sport  becomes  assimilated  to  that  of 
deer-stalkino^. 

It  is  almost  liopeless  to  attempt  an  explanation  of  tlie 
Indian’s  art  of  bunting  in  the  woods  — stalking  an 
invisible  quarry  ever  on  tbe  watcb  and  constantly  on  the 
move,  through  an  ever-varying  succession  of  swamps, 
burnt  country,  or  thick  forest.  A review  of  all  the 
shifts  and  expedients  practised  in  creeping,  from  the  first 
findino;  of  recent  tracks  to  the  exciting  moment  when  the 
Indian  whispers  “ Quite  fresh;  put  on  cap,”  would  be  im- 
practicable. I confess  that  like  many  other  young  hunters 
or  like  the  conceited  blundering  settlers,  who  are  for 
ever  cruising  through  the  woods,  and  doing  little  else 
(save  by  a chcance  shot)  than  scaring  the  country,  I once 
fondly  hoped  to  be  able  to  master  the  art,  and  to  hunt  on 
my  own  account.  Fifteen  years’  experience  has  unde- 
ceived me,  and  compels  me  to  acknowledge  the  superiority 
of  the  red  man  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  art  of 
venerie  ” in  the  American  woodlands. 

When  brought  up  to  the  game  in  the  forest,  tliere  is 
also  some  difficulty  in  realising  the  presence  of  the 
cariboo.  At  all  times  of  the  year  its  colour  is  so  similar 
to  the  pervading  hues  of  the  woods,  that  the  animal, 
when  in  repose,  is  exceedingly  difficult  of  detection : in 
winter,  especially,  when  standing  amongst  the  snow- 
dappled  stems  of  mixed  spruce  and  birch  woods,  they  are 
so  hard  to  see,  and  their  light  gray  hue  renders  the  judg- 
ing of  distance  and  aim  so  uncertain,  that  many  escape 
the  hunter’s  bullet  at  distances,  and  under  circumstances, 
which  should  otherwise  admit  of  no  excuse  for  a miss. 
And  now  let  us  proceed  to  our  liunting  ground. 

The  first  light  snow  had  just  fallen  after  two  or  three 


CAEIBOO  HUNTING. 


137 


piercingly  cold  and  frosty  days  towards  the  close  of 
November,  when  our  party,  consisting  of  ns  two  and  our 
attendant  Indian,  the  faithful  John  Williams,  (than 
whom  a more  artful  hunter  or  more  agreeable  companion 
in  camp  never  stepped  in  mocassin)  arrived  at  the  little 
town  of  Windsor,  at  the  head  of  the  basin  of  Minas, 
whence  embarking  in  a small  schooner,  we  were  to  cross 
to  the  opposite  side  to  hunt  the  cariboo  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Parsboro’.  The  distance  across  was  but  a matter 
of  thirty  miles  or  so,  and  with  light  hearts  we  stepped  on 
board,  and  stowed  our  camping  apparatus,  bags  of  pro- 
visions, blankets  and  rifles  in  the  hold  of  the  “ Jack 
Easy,’'  when  presently  the  rapidly  ebbing  tide  bore  us 
swiftly  down  the  course  of  the  Avon  into  the  dark- 
coloured  waters  of  the  arm  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

The  first  part  of  the  voyage  was  pleasant  enough ; a 
liofht  thouo’h  freshenino'  breeze  from  the  eastward  filled 

o o o 

the  sails  ; and  we  swept  on  with  the  surging  tide  of  red 
mud  and  water  past  the  great  dark  headland  of  Blomidon 
with  its  snow-streaked  furrows  and  crown  of  evergreen 
forest,  enjoying  both  our  pipes  and  the  prospect,  and 
recalling  the  various  interesting  traditions  of  this  famed 
location  of  the  old  Acadian s whose  memory  has  been  so 
beautifully  perpetuated  by  Longfellow.  But  on  leaving 
the  cape  and  standing  across  the  open  bay,  we  soon 
encountered  a rougher  state  of  affairs.  The  dark  murky 
clouds  now  commenced  discharging  a heavy  fall  of  damp 
snow,  which  froze  upon  everything  as  soon  as  it  fell, 
rendering  the  process  of  reefing,  which  had  become  neces- 
sary from  the  increasing  breeze,  very  difficult  of  accom- 
plishment. The  sheets  were  coated  witli  a film  of  ice, 
and  frozen  stiffly  in  the  Ijlocks,  and  the  deck  liccame  so 


138 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


wet  and  slippery  tliat  we  were  glad  to  retire  below  into 
the  close  little  cabin.  We  had  embarked  at  sunset,  as 
the  tide  did  not  suit  until  then,  and  not  even  a small 
schooner  of  the  dimensions  of  the  “ Jack  Easy  can  leave 
the  Windsor  river  until  the  impetuous  tide  of  this  curious 
bay  sweeps  up,  and,  rising  to  the  height  of  forty  feet, 
bears  up  all  the  craft  around  the  wharves  from  their  soft 
repose  in  the  red  mud.  It  was  now  dark,  and  the  storm 
increased  ; the  wind,  being  against  tide,  raised  a tumul- 
tuous sea.  Presently  there  were  two  or  three  vivid  flashes 
of  lightning,  followed  by  increased  violence  of  the  wind 
and  dense  driving  hail,  and  the  little  schooner  lay  heavily 
over.  We,  the  passengers,  were  huddled  together  in  a 
cabin  so  small  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  keep 
our  knees  from  touching  the  stove  round  which  we 
crowded.  Everyone  smoked,  of  course,  and  the  strong 
black  tobacco  of  the  settlers  vied  with  the  rushes  of 
smoke,  driven  by  the  wind  down  the  stove-pipe,  in  pro- 
ducing in  the  den  a state  of  atmosphere  threatening 
speedy  suffocation,  and  we  were  glad  to  grojDe  our  way 
into  the  dark  hold  and  seek  an  asylum  amongst  the  tubs, 
barrels,  and  potato  sacks  Avhich  were  rolling  about  in 
great  uneasiness.  At  last  it  was  over  : a quieter  state  of 
affairs,  a great  deal  of  stamping  and  slipping  on  deck, 
and,  finally,  the  long  rattle  of  the  cable,  told  us  we  were 
anchored  off  Parsboro’ — a fact  which  was  corroborated 
by  the  captain  opening  the  hatch  and  lowering  him- 
self amongst  us,  one  mass  of  ice  and  snow  ; his  clothes 
rattled  and  grated  as  he  moved  as  though  they  were 
constructed  of  board.  There  was  no  shore  bed  for  our 
aching  bones  that  night ; the  tide  did  not  suit  to  reach 
the  wharf,  the  village  was  a mile  and  a half  away,  and 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


139 


the  night  was  still  stormy,  so  we  again  sought  soft  spots 
on  the  inexorable  benches  around  the  stove  in  our  den. 

“ Hurrah,  John  ! ''  said  I,  as  we  followed  the  Indian 
up  the  ladder,  and  emerged  into  the  cold  morning  air ; 
“here’s  snow  enough  in  all  conscience — just  the  thing  for 
our  hunting — step  out  now  for  the  village,  and  let’s  try 
and  scare  up  a breakfast  somewhere.” 

It  was  still  snowing  heavily,  and  the  country  looked 
as  wintry  as  it  could  dp  even  in  North  America.  In  the 
distance  appeared  the  little  white  wooden  houses  and 
church  of  the  village,  and  behind  them  rose  up  the  great 
grey  form  of  the  Cobequid  Hills.  The  brisk  walk 
through  the  snow  soon  recalled  warmth  to  our  benumbed 
frames,  and,  the  village  inn  once  reached,  it  was  not 
long  ere  the  ample  breakfast  of  ham  and  eggs  and  pota- 
toes, pickles  and  cheese,  cold  squash-pie,  and  strong  black 
tea,  was  arranged  before  us. 

“ Will  the  Indian  make  out  with  you,  gents  ? ” asked 
the  exceedingly  pretty  innkeeper’s  daughter.  We  all 
glanced  at  John,  who  laughed  as  he  anticipated  our 
reply. 

“ Oh,  of  course,  yes  ; we  are  all  on  the  same  footing 
this  morning,  we  guess.  Come  on,  John,  sit  up  and  give 
us  some  ham.” 

The  landlord — who  affected  to  be  a bit  of  a sportsman, 
of  course — told  us  there  were  lots  of  cariboo  back  in  the 
hills,  and  some  moose,  which  he  reckoned  would  be  the 
great  object  of  our  hunting;  for,  in  this  part  of  Nova 
Scotia,  the  moose  has  only  recently  made  his  appearance, 
and  the  settlers  look  upon  him  as  far  nobler  game  tlian 
the  common  cariboo.  Presently  a sleigh  with  a stout 
pony  appeared  for  us  at  the  door,  and,  loading  it  with 


140 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


our  baggage,  we  left  to  tlie  tune  of  a peal  of  merry  bells 
wliicli  the  pony  carried  attached  to  different  parts  of  the 
harness. 

Our  road  lay  through  a valley,  skirted  by  the  lofty 
wooded  slopes  of  the  Cobequids.  These  hills  are  the 
great  stronghold  of  the  cariboo,  and  his  last  resort  in 
Nova  Scotia  ; they  extend  through  the  isthmus  which 
connects  the  province  with  that  of  New  Brunswick,  and 
are  covered  Avith  laro^e  hard-Avood  forests  of  suQ:ar  and 
Avhite  maple,  birch,  and  beech.  On  their  broad  tops  and 
sides  the  cariboo  has  an  unbroken  range  of  more  than  a 
hundred  miles,  and  their  eastern  spurs,  descending  into 
a flat  district  of  dense  fir  forests,  Avith  numerous  chains 
of  lakes,  offer  secure  retreats  in  the  breeding  season. 

The  country  AA-as  ncAv  to  us,  and  its  features  novel : 
the  evergreen  forest,  so  characteristic  of  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  province,  here  almost  entirely  gave  way  to 
hard-AAmods,  narroAv  lines  of  hemlock  or  spruce  springing 
up  from  some  deep  gorge  on  the  mountain  side,  here  and 
there  shoAvino;  their  dark  summits,  and  coursing  like 
veins  through  the  great  rolling  sea  of  maples.  The  latter 
part  of  the  storm  had  been  unaccompanied  by  Avind,  and 
the  snoAv  lay  in  heaA^y  masses  on  the  trees,  ghung  the 
forest  a most  beautiful  aspect ; it  covered  eA^ery  branch 
and  every  tAvig,  and  AA^as  thickly  spattered  against  the 
stems,  and  all  the  complicated  tracery  of  the  denuded 
l)ranches  Avas  brought  to  notice,  even  in  the  deepest 
recesses,  by  the  AAdiite  pencil  of  the  siioaa"- storm.  In  the 
fir  forest  the  effect  of  ncAAdy- fallen  snoAV  is  A^ery  fine  also, 
but  the  A^ery  masses  AAdiich  coA-er  the  broad  and  retentiA^e 
branches  of  the  evergreens  and  clog  the  younger  trees 
until  they  seem  like  solid  cones  of  snow,  hinder  and 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


141 


choke  the  view ; Avhereas  in  these  lofty  hard- woods, 
under  which  grows  nothing  but  slender  saplings,  a most 
extensive  glimpse  of  their  furthest  depths  is  obtained, 
and  thousands  of  delicate  little  ramifications,  before  un- 
noticed, now  stand  out  in  bold  relief  in  the  grey  gloom 
of  the  distance.  And  then,  when  the  storm  has  passed 
by,  and  that  beautiful  blue  tint  of  a wintry  sky,  coursed 
by  light  fleecy  scud,  succeeds  the  heavily  laden  cloud, 
how  exquisitely  the  scene  lights  up  1 what  a soft  warm 
tint  is  thrown  upon  the  light-coloured  bark  of  the  maples 
and  birches,  and  upon  the  prominent  dottings  and  lines 
of  snow  which  mark  their  forms,  and  how  lovely  is  that 
light  purple  shade  which  continually  crosses  the  road, 
marking  the  shadows  ! As  the  sun  increases  in  warmth, 
or  a passing  gust  of  wind  courses  through  the  trees, 
avalanches  of  snow  fall  in  sparkling  spray,  and  the  new 
snow  glitters  in  myriads  of  little  scintillations,  so  that 
the  eye  becomes  pained  by  the  intensity  of  brilliancy 
pervading  the  face  of  nature. 

We  stopped  the  sleigh  opposite  a group  of  Indian  bark 
wigwams,  which  stood  a short  distance  from  the  road  ; 
the  noise  of  voices  and  curling  wreaths  of  smoke  from 
their  tops  proved  them  to  be  occupied,  and,  as  we  re- 
quired a second  Indian  hunter,  particularly  one  who  was 
well  acquainted  with  the  neighbourhood,  we  followed  the 
track  which  led  up  to  them,  and  entered  the  largest. 
The  head  of  the  family,  who  sat  upon  a spread  cariboo- 
skin  of  gigantic  proportions,  was  one  of  the  finest  old 
Indians  I ever  saw — one  of  the  last  living  models  of  a 
race  now  so  changed  in  physical  and  moral  development 
that  it  may  be  fairly  said  to  be  extinct.  An  old  man  of 
nearly  eighty  winters  was  this  aged  chief,  yet  erect,  and 


142 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


witli  little  to  mark  liis  age  save  the  grizzly  hue  pervading 
the  long  hair  which  streamed  over  his  broad  shoulders, 
and  half  concealed  the  faded  epaulettes  of  red  scalloped 
cloth  and  bead-work.  A necklace  of  beads  hunsf  round 
his  neck,  and,  suspended  from  it,  a silver  crucifix  lay  on 
his  bare  expansive  chest.  His  voice,  as  he  welcomed  us, 
and  beckoned  us  to  the  post  of  honour  opposite  to  the 
fire  and  furthest  from  the  door,  though  soft  and  melo- 
dious, was  deep-toned  and  most  im]3ressive.  Williams, 
our  Indian,  greeted  and  was  greeted  enthusiastically ; he 
had  found  an  old  friend,  the  protector  of  his  youth, 
in  whose  hunting  camps  he  had  learnt  all  his  science ; 
the  old  squaw,  too,  was  his  aunt,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  many  years. 

The  chief  was  engaged  in  dressing  fox-skins : he  had 
shot  no  less  than  twenty-three  within  the  week  or  two 
preceding,  and  whilst  we  were  in  the  camp  a couple  of 
traders  arrived,  and  treated  with  him  for  the  purchase  of 
the  whole,  offering  two  doUars  a-piece  for  the  red  foxes, 
and  five  or  six  for  the  silver  or  cross-fox,  of  which  there 
were  three  very  good  specimens  in  the  camp.  The  skin 
of  the  fox  is  used  for  sleigh  robes,  caps,  and  trimmings. 
The  valuable  black  fox  is  occasionally  shot  or  trapped  by 
the  Indians,  and  the  skin  sold,  according  to  condition 
and  season,  from  ten,  even  as  high  as  twenty  pounds. 
The  coat  of  a good  specimen  of  the  black  fox  in  winter 
is  of  a beautiful  jet  black  colour,  the  hair  very  long,  soft, 
and  glossy ; and,  as  the  animal  runs  past  you  in  the  sun- 
shine on  the  pure  snow,  and  a puff  of  wind  ruffies  the 
long  hair,  it  gleams  like  burnished  silver.  It  appears  that 
the  whole  of  the  black  fox-skins  are  exported  to  Eussia, 
and  are  there  worn  by  the  nobility  round  the  neck,  or  as 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


143 


collars  for  tlieir  cloaks ; tlie  nose  is  fastened  by  a clasp 
to  tlie  top  of  the  tail,  the  rest  of  which  hangs  down  in 
front. 

The  old  man  told  us  of  the  curious  method  he  used  in 
obtaining  his  fox-skins.  He  would  go  off  alone  into  the 
moonlit  forest,  to  the  edge  of  some  little  barren,  which 
the  foxes  often  cross,  or  hunt  round  its  edges  at  night. 
Here  he  would  lie  down  and  wait  patiently  until  the 
dark  form  of  a fox  appeared  in  the  open.  A little  shrill 
squeak,  produced  by  the  lips  applied  to  the  thumbs  of 
the  closed  hands,  and  the  fox  would  at  once  gallop  up 
with  the  utmost  boldness,  and  meet  his  fate  through  the 
Indian’s  gun. 

He  regretted  that  he  was  too  old  to  accompany  us 
himself,  but  advised  us  to  take  a young  Indian  who  was 
at  that  time  encamped  on  the  ground  to  which  we  were 
proceeding ; and  we  left  the  old  man’s  camp,  and  re- 
sumed our  trudge  on  the  main  road,  after  seeing  him 
make  a successful  bargain  for  his  fox-skins. 

That  afternoon  we  had  reached  our  destination  ; the 
last  few  miles  of  the  road  had  been  more  and  more  wild 
and  uneven,  and  at  last  we  drew  up  before  a tenement 
and  its  outbuildings  which  stood  on  the  brow  of  a hill 
and  overlooked  a wide  extent  of  country.  It  was  the 
house  of  the  last  settler,  and  those  great  undulating 
forests  before  us  were  to  be  the  arena  of  our  sport. 
Buckling  on  the  loads,  we  dismissed  the  sleigh,  and 
turned  at  once  into  their  depths. 

We  had  not  far  to  carry  our  loads,  for  the  Indian 
camp  was  erected  on  a hard-wood  hill,  within  reach  of 
the  sounds  of  the  last  settler’s  clearing.  This  we  found 
afterwards  to  be  a great  comfort,  as  we  often  called  on 


144 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


him  for  the  loan  of  his  sleigh  and  trusty  yoke  of  oxen, 
and  drew  large  supplies  of  fine  mealy  potatoes  from  his 
cellar ; great  luxuries  they  are,  too,  and  Taluahle  addi- 
tions to  the  camp  fare,  though  they  often  have  to  be 
omitted,  when  the  distance  of  the  hunting  country  from 
the  settler  s house  precludes  any  extra  weight  in  the 
apportioned  loads. 

Xoel  Bonus,  the  owner  of  the  camp,  was  at  home,  just 
returned  from  his  hunting,  for  an  early  dinner,  and  to 
him  we  ajiplied  direct  to  act  as  our  landlord  and  hunter. 
I never  saw  a dirtier  or  more  starved-looking  Indian  ; 
selfishness  and  cunning  were  plainly  stamped  on  his 
tawny  face,  which  was  tojiped  by  the  shaggiest  mass  of 
long  black  hair  conceivable  ; he  seemed  irresolute  for 
some  moments  as  to  whether  he  should  admit  us,  and 
take  the  dollar  per  diem  and  his  share  of  the  meat,  or 
whether  he  should  continue  to  hunt  on  his  own  account, 
and  leave  us  to  shift  for  om^selves. 

AVe  did  not  urge  the  point,  for  we  had  a first-rate 
hunter,  John  AVilfiams,  with  us,  and  though  he  did  not 
know  the  country,  he  would  soon  master  that  ditficulty  ; 
and,  as  to  a camp,  we  had  all  the  requisite  appliances  for 
quickly  setting  up  on  our  own  account.  This  became 
gradually  evident  to  Alaster  Noel,  who  at  last  motioned 
us  to  take  off  our  loads  and  come  in — a proceeding 
which  we  politely  declined  doing  until  a tliorough  reno- 
vation and  cleansing  had  taken  place,  and  the  dirty 
bedding  of  dried  shrivelled  fir-boughs,  strewed  with 
bones  and  bits  of  hide  and  hoof,  had  been  swept  out 
and  replaced  by  fresh.  It  was  a capital  camp,  strongly 
built,  and  quite  rain-proof,  standing  on  a well-timbered 
hard-wood  hill,  the  stems  of  the  smaller  trees  afibrding 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


145 


an  unlimited  supply  of  fuel ; a small  spring  trickled 
down  the  hill-side  close  by. 

As  we  unpacked  our  bundles  to  get  at  the  ammunition 
(for  we  were  determined  to  have  a cruise  around  before 
dark),  Noel  told  us  that  he  had,  early  that  same  morning, 
missed  a cariboo  not  more  than  a mile  from  camp.  We 
started  in  different  directions,  I with  Noel,  and  my 
comrade  with  the  older  hunter.  It  was  a bright,  frosty 
afternoon,  very  calm,  and  the  beautiful  woods  still  re- 
tained their  oppressive  loads  of  heavy  snow,  rendering  it 
very  difficult  to  see  game  between  the  thickly-growing 
evergreens.  Noel  first  followed  a line  of  marten  traps  of 
his  own  setting — little  dead-falls  occurring  every  fifty 
yards  or  so  in  a line  through  the  woods  for  nearly  a mile. 
There  was  nothing  in  them,  though  I saw  several  tracks 
of  marten  on  the  snow.  Fox-tracks,  and  those  of  the 
little  American  hare,  commonly  called  the  rabbit,  on 
which  the  fox  preys,  were  exceedingly  numerous,  and 
there  was  a fair  sprinkling  of  the  other  tracks  which  are 
usually  found  on  the  snow  in  the  forest,  such  as  lucifee 
or  wild  cat,  porcupine,  partridge,  and  squirrel.  Pre- 
sently Noel  gave  a satisfactory  grunt,  and  pointed  to  the 
surface  of  the  snow  ahead,  which  was  evidently  broken 
by  the  track  of  some  large  animal. 

“Fresh  track,  caliboo,*  thees  mornin,”  whispered  he, 
as  we  came  up  to  the  trail  of  two  cariboo,  which  had 
gone  down  wind,  and  in  the  direction  of  some  large 
barrens  which  Noel  said  lay  about  a mile  away.  We 
might  yet  have  a chance  by  daylight,  so  on  we  went 
pretty  briskly,  though  cautiously.  Noel  pointed  out 
several  times  small  pieces  which  had  been  bitten  off  the 

* The  Indians  pronounce  the  letter  r as  1. 


146 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


lichens  growing  on  the  stems  of  the  hard-wood  trees,  of 
which  they  had  taken  a passing  mouthful.  Who  but  an 
Indian  could  have  detected  such  minute  evidences  of  theh 
actions  ? There  was  no  doubt  but  that  they  were  making 
for  the  barrens,  or  they  would  have  stopped  at  these 
tempting  morsels  longer,  and  here  and  there  perhaps 
deviated  from  the  line  of  march.  Probably  they  knew 
of  companions,  and  were  going  to  a rendezvous,  or 
preferred  the  reindeer  moss  amongst  the  rocks  on  the 
barren. 

The  tall  forest  of  maples  and  birches  was  presently 
succeeded  by  a dense  growth  of  evergreens,  which  be- 
came more  and  more  stunted  as  we  approached  the 
barren,  and  here  and  there  opened  out  into  moist  swampy 
bogs,  into  which  we  sank  ankle-deep  at  every  step  : 
finally,  we  brushed  through  the  thick  shrubbery,  drenched 
with  the  snow  dislodged  plentifully  over  us  en  j)ctssant, 
and  stood  on  the  edge  of  a most  extensive  barren. 

Such  a scene  of  desolation  is  seldom  witnessed,  except 
in  these  great  burnt  and  denuded  wastes  of  the  North 
American  forest.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  was  a 
wild  undulating  wilderness  of  rocks  and  stumps  ; a deep 
indigo-coloured  hill  showed  the  limits  of  the  barren,  and 
where  the  heavy  fir  forest  again  resumed  its  sway.  It 
appeared  to  be  some  ten  miles  or  so ' in  length,  and  to 
slope  from  us  in  a gentle  declivity  toAvards  the  Avest- 
Avard.  The  average  breadth  might  be  four  or  five  miles. 
Little  thickets  and  groves  of  Avood  dotted  it  in  all  direc- 
tions ; sometimes  a clump  of  spruce,  against  Avhich  the 
Avhite  stem  of  the  birch  stood  out  in  bold  relief ; or,  at 
others,  a patch  of  ghost-like  rampikes  ; Avhilst  the  brooks 
in  the  valleys  Avere  marked  by  fringing  thickets  of  alder. 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


147 


Boulders  of  rock  and  fallen  trees  were  strewed  over  the 
whole  surface  of  the  country  in  the  wildest  confusion ; 
and  the  dark,  snow-laden  sky  cast  a shade  over  the 
scene,  investing  it  with  the  most  forbidding  and  gloomy 
appearance  imaginable. 

Carefully  scanning  the  surrounding  country,  and  not 
perceiving  any  signs  of  the  game,  we  proceeded  on  their 
tracks,  which  were  soon  increased  in  number  by  those  of 
three  other  cariboo,  joining  in  from  the  southward.  They 
led  us  through  some  dense  thickets,  where  we  had  to 
proceed  with  the  greatest  caution,  there  being  no  wind, 
and  on  account  of  the  uncertainty  of  the  moment  or 
place  where  we  might  come  upon  them.  I was  getting 
tired  of  the  whole  proceeding,  when,  as  we  were  crossing 
an  open  spot  amongst  rocks  and  sparsely-growing  spruce 
clumps  of  about  our  own  height,  I saw  Noel,  who  was 
ahead,  suddenly  stop,  with  his  hand  held  back,  and 
slowly  subside  in  the  snow,  which  proceedings  of  course 
I followed,  without  question  as  to  the  cause  or  necessity. 

“What  is  it,  Noel  V’  said  I,  gaining  his  side  by  slowly 
worming  along  in  the  snow,  with  difficulty  keeping  the 
muzzle  of  my  rifle  above  the  surface. 

“ Caliboo  lying  down,^'  he  replied.  “ You  no  see  them 
now  ? Better  fire,  I think.” 

I could  not  for  my  life  see  the  cariboo,  although  I 
looked  along  the  barrel  of  his  gun,  which  he  pointed  for 
me  in  the  right  direction.  They  are  most  difficult  ani- 
mals to  recognise  unless  moving,  being  so  exceedingly 
similar  in  colour  to  the  rocks  and  general  features  of  the 
barren,  that  only  the  eye  of  the  Indian  can  readily  detect 
them  when  lying  down.  Noel  had  at  once  seen  the  herd  ; 
and  here  was  I,  unable  to  perceive  them  amongst  the 


148 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


rocks  and  bushes,  though  pointed  to  the  exact  spot,  and 
knowing  that  they  were  little  more  than  one  hundred 
yards  distant.  At  last  I saw  the  flapping  of  one  of  their 
ears,  and  gradually  the  whole  contour  of  the  recumbent 
animal  nearest  to  me  became  evident. 

I now  did  a very  foolish  thing,  and  was  determined  to 
have  my  shot  at  the  nearest  cariboo,  lying  down.  The 
animal  was  in  a hollow,  deeply  bedded  in  the  snow,  so 
that  very  little  of  the  back  could  be  seen,  and  I aimed  at 
the  lowest  part  visible  above  the  snow.  I pulled — a spirt 
of  snow  showed  that  the  dazzling  surface  had  deceived 
me,  and  the  bullet  ricochetted  harmlessly  over  the  back 
of  the  cariboo. 

Up  they  jumped,  five  of  them,  apparently  rising  from 
all  directions  around  us,  and,  after  a brief  stare,  made  off 
in  long  graceful  bounds.  I at  once  seized  the  old  musket 
which  the  Indian  carried,  but  the  hammer  descended  on 
harmless  copper — the  cap  was  useless.  ‘‘  This  is  bad,” 
thought  I ; for  I hate  missing  the  first  shot  on  a hunt- 
ing excursion,  particularly  with  game  to  which  one  is 
not  accustomed,  as  there  is  still  more  fear  of  becoming 
unsteady,  and  missing,  on  the  next  chance  presenting 
itself ; and  I watched  the  cariboo  with  longing  eyes,  and 
a feeling  of  great  disappointment,  as  they  settled  down 
into  a long,  swinging  trot,  and  wound  in  file  over  the 
barren,  towards  the  line  of  forest  on  the  north  side.  As 
for  the  hungry-looking  Indian,  I did  not  know  whether 
to  have  at  him  on  the  score  of  his  excessive  ugliness,  or 
for  not  carrying  better  caps  for  his  gun. 

''  Get  back  to  camp,  Noel,  as  quick  as  you  can,”  said 
I ; ‘At  will  be  dark  in  half  an  hour.  Why  didn't  you 
put  up  the  cariboo  on  their  legs  for  me  before  I fired  ?” 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


149 


Gentleman  just  please  himself/’  replied  the  Indian. 

You  did  very  foolish  ; nice  lot  of  caliboo,  them.  Maybe 
other  gentleman  get  shot,  though.” 

Oh,  it  s the  fresh  steak  for  supper  you  are  thinking 
of,”  thought  I to  myself,  feeling  as  discontented  and 
generally  uncharitable  as  possible.  I hope  sincerely 
they  have  not,  though  ; ” and  I trudged  after  the  Indian 
homewards  in  an  unenviable  mood.  Fortunately  there 
was  an  old  road  leading  across  the  barren  towards  the 
settlements,  and,  presently  striking  it,  we  obtained  easy 
walking.  A couple  of  hours,  the  latter  part  by  moon- 
light, brought  us  to  our  camp.  No  smoke  issued  from 
the  top,  and  everything  was  as  we  left  it.  The  others 
had  not  returned,  and  we  made  up  a fire  and  cooked  the 
meal  we  so  much  needed. 

“ I was  almost  afraid  you  were  lost,  J ohn,”  said  I,  as 
the  blanket  which  covered  the  entrance  was  withdrawn 
by  the  returning  hunter  and  my  companion,  very  late  in 
the  evening  ; any  sport 

Never  fear,”  replied  Williams,  laughing,  as  he  lugged 
in  a great  sack  of  potatoes,  and  produced  a bottle  of  new 
milk,  and  some  loaves  of  home-made  bread  ; here’s  our 
game.  We  just  had  first-rate  dinner  at  settler’s ; good 
old  man,  that  old  Harrison.” 

They,  too,  had  fired  at  cariboo,  and  wounded  a young 
one  slightly.  It  had  led  them  a race  of  some  miles,  and 
finally,  having  joined  a fresh  herd,  had  escaped  through 
the  confusion  of  tracks.  However,  we  retired  to  our 
repose  on  the  soft  bed  of  fir-boughs  that  night,  quite 
satisfied  and  hopeful.  We  were  in  a fine  country,  evi- 
dently full  of  game,  and  we  looked  forward  to  our  future 
shots  with  confidence,  satisfied,  from  what  we  had  seen. 


150 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


that  the  cariboo  was  one  of  the  finest  deer,  for  sport,  in 
the  wide  world. 

What  a hearty  meal  is  breakfast  in  the  winter  camp  of 
a party  of  hunters  in  the  American  backwoods  ! The 
pure  air  which  enters  freely  and  circulates  round  the 
camp,  heated  by  the  great  log  fire  in  the  centre,  round 
which  we  range  ourselves  for  sleep,  regardless  of  the  cold 
without  (except,  perhaps,  on  some  especially  severe 
passage  of  cold,  when  actual  roasting  on  one  side  will 
scarcely  keep  the  opposite  from  freezing),  conduce  to 
sound  and  healthy  repose,  and  a feeling  of  wonderful 
freshness  and  activity  on  awakening  and  throwing  off  the 
blanket  or  buffalo  robe  early  in  the  morning. 

The  Indians  are  afieady  up,  one  cleaning  the  guns,  or 
‘‘  fixing  ” a moccasin,  whilst  the  other  is  holding  the  long- 
handled  frying-pan,  filled  with  spluttering  slices  of  bacon, 
over  the  glowing  embers.  Their  toilet  amounts  to  nil  ; 
when  well  they  always  look  clean,  though  they  seldom 
wash ; though  they  never  use  a comb  their  long,  shining, 
raven -black  hair  is  always  smooth  and  unruffied.  We, 
with  our  combs,  brushes  and  towels,  step  out  into  the 
cold  morning  air  and  betake  ourselves  to  the  little  brook 
for  ten  minutes  or  so,  and  then  return  with  appetites 
whetted  either  for  venison  or  the  flesh  of  pig,  washed 
down  by  potations  of  strong  black  tea,  which  has 
simmered  by  the  embers,  perhaps,  for  the  last  half- 
hour. 

“John,”  said  I,  as  we  reclined  on  our  blankets  at 
breakfast  the  ihorning  after  our  unsuccessful  cariboo 
hunt,  “ did  you  hear  the  wild  geese  passing  over  to  the 
southward  last  night '?  I heard  their  loud  ‘ honk  ! honk  ! ' 
several  times,  and  the  whistling  of  their  wings  as  they 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


151 


flew  over  the  camp.  It  froze  pretty  sharp,  too ; the  trees 
cracked  loudly  in  the  forest.'' 

“ I hear  'um,  sure  enough,"  replied  the  Indian.  “ Guess 
winter  set  in  pretty  hard  up  to  nor'rerd.  I got  notion 
some  of  us  have  luck  to-day,  capten.  I dreamin'  very 
hard  last  night.  When  I dream  so  always  sure  sign  we 
have  luck  next  day.  I think  it  will  be  you  ; me  and  the 
other  gentleman  must  go  back  and  try  to  get  the 
wounded  caliboo  calf." 

Very  well,  then  : Noel  hunts  with  me  again  to-day," 
said  I,  looking  at  the  younger  Indian,  who  nodded  assent 
and  drew  on  his  moccasins.  ‘‘  Come  on,  Noel ; put  a 
biscuit  in  your  pocket,  and  let  us  be  off  for  the  barrens." 

It  was  a lovely  morning  when  we  left  the  camp ; not 
a breath  of  wind,  and  the  sun  shone  through  the  trees, 
lighting  with  extraordinary  brilliancy  the  sparkling  snow 
which  had  been  sprinkled  during  the  night  with  rime 
frost.  All  nature  seemed  to  rejoice  at  the  warming 
influence  of  the  sun's  rays.  The  squirrel  raced  up  the 
stems  with  more  than  usual  activity,  and  the  little  chick- 
adee birds  darted  about  amongst  the  spruce  boughs  in 
merry  troops,  dislodging  showers  of  snow,  and  con- 
tinuously uttering  the  cheerful  cry  which  has  given  them 
their  local  sobriquet.  The  tapping  of  the  woodpecker 
resounded  through  the  calm  forest,  and  the  harsh  warning 
note  of  the  blue  jay  gave  notice  of  our  approach  to  his 
comrades  and  the  forest  denizens  in  general.  Here  and 
there  a ruffed  grouse  started  with  boisterous  flight  from 
our  path,  as  we  disturbed  his  meditations  on  some  sunlit 
stump  ; and,  soon  after  entering  the  barren,  a red  fox 
jumped  from  the  warm  side  of  a clump  of  bushes  where 
he  had  been  basking,  and  made  ofl'  at  racing  speed — a 


152 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


far  handsomer  animal  than  our  English  Eeynard,  whose 
fur  is  quite  dingy  compared  with  the  bright  orange-red 
coat  of  the  American. 

Ah  ! I don't  like  to  see  this,"  said  Noel,  pointing  out 
some  large  tracks  in  the  snow ; “ these  brutes  been 
huntin'  about  here  some  time.  You  see  that  track  ? — 
that  wolf-track — two  of  them ; them  tracks  we  seen 
yesterday,  when  we  thought  dogs  were  chasing  moose, 
them  was  wolf-tracks." 

The  day  before  we  had  noticed  the  tracks  of  what  we 
chen  thought  had  been  dogs  chasing  a young  calf-moose. 
At  one  place — a very  deep,  swampy  bog — they  had 
nearly  run  into  him,  for,  on  the  snow,  w^e  saw  hair  which 
they  had  pulled  from  his  flanks.  It  seems  that  about  ten 
years  ago  wolves  made  their  appearance  in  this  province 
in  considerable  numbers  from  New  Brunswuck,  and  their 
nightly  howlings  caused  the  farmers  to  look  closely  after 
the  safety  of  their  stock  and  folds  for  some  time  in  certain 
settlements.  They  are,  however,  now  rarely  heard  of. 

We  had  not  been  long  on  the  barren  ere  we  came  on 
last  night's  tracks  of  five  cariboo,  and  we  at  once  com- 
menced creeping  in  earnest.  Presently  we  found  their 
beds,  deeply  sunk  in  the  snow,  the  surface  quite  soft,  and 
evidently  just  quitted.  Their  tracks  showed  that  they 
had,  on  rising,  commenced  feeding  along  very  leisurely 
on  the  mosses  of  the  barren  ; to  get  at  which  they  had 
scraped  away  the  snow  with  their  broad  hoofs.  It  was 
now  a capital  morning  for  creeping,  as  the  surface  of  the 
snow  on  the  barren  was  quite  soft,  loosened  by  the  power 
of  the  sun.  Now  we  enter  a little  bog,  with  scattering 
clumps  of  spruce  growing  from  its  wet,  mossy  surface  ; 
at  every  step  we  sink  ankle  deep  into  the  yielding  moss. 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


153 


and  tlie  chilling  snow-water  soaks  into  our  feet.  We 
look  anxiously  ahead  for  the  game,  but  they  have  crossed 
the  bog  ; nor  are  they  on  the  next,  which  we  can  scan 
from  our  present  position.  They  must  be  in  that  dark 
patch  of  woods  just  beyond,  which  skirts  the  barren, 
for  we  have  followed  them  up  to  its  northern  edge. 
What  a pity ! for  the  snow  under  the  shade  of  the 
forest  is  still  hard  and  crusted,  and  its  crunching 
sound,  under  the  pressure  of  our  moccasins,  step  we 
ever  so  lightly,  cannot  escape  the  ear  of  the  cariboo. 
Yes,  they  have  entered  the  wood,  and  just  as  we 
prepare  to  follow  them,  and  gently  open  our  way 
through  the  outlying  thickets,  I hear  a light  snap 
of  a bough  within,  which  sends  my  heart  nearly  to 
my  mouth.  Another  step,  and  Noel  at  once  points  to 
game,  and  I see  some  shadowy  forms  moving  among  the 
trees,  at  about  fifty  yards^  distance.  Now  is  the  time  ; an 
instant  more  and  we  should  be  discovered,  and  the 
cariboo  bound  off  scatheless,  with  electric  speed.  The 
quick  crack  of  my  rifle  is  followed  by  the  roar  of  the 
Indian’s  gun  (which  I afterwards  ascertained  contained 
two  balls,  and  about  four  drachms  of  powder),  and  the 
branches  loudly  crash  in  front  as  the  herd  starts  in 
headlong  flight. 

There  was  blood  on  the  snow,  as  we  came  up  to  the 
spot  whence  they  had  fled : a broad  trail  of  it  led  from 
the  spot  where  the  animal  I had  fired  at  had  been  stand- 
ing. Presently  I saw  the  cariboo  ahead,  going  very 
slowly,  and  making  round  for  the  barren  again,  having 
left  the  herd.  The  poor  creature’s  doom  was  sealed ; for, 
as  we  emerged  from  the  woods,  we  saw  it  lying  down, 
and  a fawn,  which  had  accompanied  it,  made  quickly  off 


154 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


on  seeing  us  approach.  I would  have  spared  the  latter, 
but  the  Indian  brought  it  down  at  once  by  a good 
shot  at  eighty  yards.  Mine  proved  to  be  a very 
fine  doe,  with  a dark  glossy  skin,  and  in  excellent 
condition. 

“Plenty  fresh  meat  in  camp  now,^’  says  Noel,  who 
really  looked  as  if  he  could  have  eaten  the  whole  cariboo 
then  and  there.  He  did  roast  a good  junk  of  it  as  soon 
as  he  could  get  a fire  alight,  and  the  fellow  had  brought 
out  some  salt  in  a piece  of  paper  in  case  of  an  emergency 
like  the  present.  Whilst  Noel  was  making  up  the  meat 
with  the  assistance  of  the  little  axe  and  hunting-knife 
which  are  invariably  suspended  from  the  hunters  belt,  I 
lighted  my  pipe  and  heaped  on  the  dead  logs,  which  lay 
everywhere  under  the  surface  of  the  snow,  until  we  had 
a roaring  fire  that  would  have  roasted  a cariboo  whole 
with  great  ease  and  dispatch.  I never  saw  fatter  meat 
than  that  of  the  largest  cariboo  when  the  hide  was  re- 
moved ; the  whole  saddle  was  snow-white  with  fat, 
which  covered  the  meat  to  the  depth  of  an  inch  and  a 
half.  Having  stacked  the  quarters  in  a compact  pile,  and 
deeply  covered  them  with  a coating  of  snow,  we  started 
for  home,  leaving  the  offal  for  the  Canada  jays  and  crows; 
the  former  were  exceedingly  impudent,  hopping  about 
within  a few  yards  of  us,  and  screaming  most  impatiently 
for  our  departure.  Noel  of  course  carried  a goodly  load 
of  the  meat,  including  many  delicate  morsels  for  our 
camp  frying-pan. 

Numerous  droves  of  cariboo  had  crossed  the  barren 
since  the  morning,  and,  as  we  were  on  our  way,  we  saw 
a small  drove  of  four  passing  across  at  a distance  of  about 
500  yards  from  us.  They  appeared  scared,  walking  very 


ON  THE  BARRENS. 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


155 


briskly,  and  occasionally  breaking  into  a trot.  Most 
probably  they  had  been  started  by  the  rest  of  the  party 
in  the  woods  to  the  southward.  One  of  them  was  of  a 
very  light  colour — the  lightest,  I think,  I ever  saw — • 
being  of  a pale,  tawny  hue  all  over;  the  others  were,  as 
usual,  dull  grey,  variegated  with  dingy  white.  Sport 
must  have  fallen  to  the  lot  of  anyone  Avho  had  remained 
concealed  in  some  central  thicket  on  the  barren  this 
afternoon,  from  the  number  that  must  have  passed  at 
different  times,  as  appeared  by  their  tracks.  Though  it 
was  still  early  in  December  we  had  only  as  yet  seen  one 
buck  who  retained  his  horns  ; the  does  still  wore  theirs. 
The  one  I had  just  killed  had  an  exceedingly  neat  little 
pair,  which,  but  for  her  untimely  end,  would  have  graced 
her  until  the  ensuing  March. 

On  return  to  camp,  I found  that  my  friend  had  not 
been  so  fortunate ; they  had  not  been  able  to  discover 
the  wounded  cariboo,  and  had  started  two  herds  without 
getting  a shot.  This  was  owing  to  the  frozen  state  of 
the  snow  in  the  woods.  We  had  determined  to  exchange 
Indians  next  morning ; but,  in  consequence  of  his  not 
yet  having  had  success,  I agreed  to  start  again  Avith  the 
second  hunter,  Noel,  and  leave  to  my  friend  the  undis- 
turbed possession  of  the  barrens,  my  direction  being  the 
Buctegun  plains,  which  were  distant  some  eight  miles  or 
so  to  the  westward.  Noel,  of  course,  ate  until  he  could 
eat  no  more  that  night — in  fact,  I never  saw  such 
gluttony  as  was  displayed  by  this  Indian  whenever  he 
got  a chance.  The  settler  s wife  had  told  me,  a few  days 
since,  that  he  made  a common  practice  of  going  into  one 
house  after  another  along  the  road,  and  at  each  represent- 
ing himself  as  starving.  His  appearance  not  generally 


15G 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


belying  his  assertion,  he  has  succeeded  in  getting  a dinner 
at  each  of  four  different  places  on  the  same  day.  But,’' 
she  said,  “ they  found  him  out ; and  he  finds  it  rather  hard 
to  get  asked  out,  or  rather  in,  to  dinner  now-a-days.”  On 
one  occasion,  on  returning  with  me  to  camp,  after  an 
unsuccessful  morning,  a good  deal  before  the  usual  time 
for  dining,  he  complained  of  a severe  attack  of  indiges- 
tion, and  adopted,  as  an  unfailing  remedy,  a hearty  meal 
of  fried  pork — the  fattest  he  could  pick  out  of  the  bag. 
He  expressed  himself  to  the  effect  that  lubrication  was 
the  best  remedy  for  such  complaints. 

The  owls  hooted  most  dismally  in  the  forest  that  night 
— a sure  sign,  as  Williams  said,  of  an  approaching  storm  ; 
and,  as  the  sky  looked  threatening  all  the  latter  part  of 
the  day,  we  retired  to  sleep,  trusting  to  see  a fall  of  fresh 
snow  in  the  morning,  which  was  much  wanted,  to 
obliterate  the  old  tracks,  and  soften  the  surface  of  the 
crust. 

Fresh  falls  of  snow  are  necessary  to  continue  and 
ensure  sport  in  the  winter  hunting-camp,  especially  in 
the  earlier  part  of  the  season.  A few  bright  days  thaw 
the  surface  so  that  the  night-frost  produces  a disagreeable 
crust,  which  crunches  and  roars  under  the  moccasin  most 
unmusically  ; and  then,  unless  the  forest  trees  are  shaken 
by  little  short  of  a gale,  you  may  give  up  all  idea  of 
getting  within  shot  of  game.  Day  after  day  is  often 
thus  spent  listlessly  in  camp ; the  same  calm,  frosty 
weather  continuing  to  prevent  sport,  and  the  evil  of  the 
crust  on  the  snow  gradually  becoming  worse ; the 
Indians  shaking  their  heads  at  the  proposition  to  hunt 
and  uselessly  disturb  the  country,  and  betaking  them- 
selves to  cutting  axe-handles,  mending  their  moccasins, 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


157 


or  constructing  a hand-sled  perhaps,  whilst  you  lazily  fall 
back  amongst  the  blankets,  and  snooze  away  far  into  the 
bright  morning,  till  the  noon-day  sun  strikes  down  on  your 
face  through  the  aperture  in  the  top  of  the  camp.  Then 
you  are  told  by  the  dusky  cook  and  steward  of  the  camp 
that  the  “ pork’s  giving  out,”  or  the  “ sweetening  is 
getting  short,”  and  all  things  remind  you  that  it’s  hard 
times,”  and  no  fresh  meat,  and  all  for  want  of  a nice  little 
fall  of  snow.  However,  there  lies  a great  ball  of  a thing, 
all  covered  with  quills,  like  a hedgehog,  in  the  cook’s 
corner,  and  the  cook  recommends  that  a “ bilin  ” of  soup 
should  be  instituted  ; so  Master  Porcupine  is  scraped, 
and  skinned,  and  chopped,  and,  with  an  odd  bone  or  two 
which  turns  up  from  the  larder,  a little  rice,  and  lots  of 
sliced  onions,  he  is  converted  into  a broth,  and  another 
day  in  the  woods  is  cleared  by  the  pork  thereby  saved. 
At  last,  when  the  bitter  reflection  of  having  to  return 
from  the  woods  empty-handed  presents  itself  to  you  some 
morning  on  awakening,  the  joyous  flakes  are  seen  gently 
falling  through  the  top  of  the  camp,  and  hissing  as  they 
meet  the  embers  of  the  fire.  “ Now’s  your  time,”  says 
the  party  all  round,  and  the  camp  is  all  bustle  and 
animation — such  tying  on  of  moccasins,  and  buckling  on 
of  ammunition-belts,  and  knives,  and  axes  ; not  forgetting 
to  provide  for  the  mid-day  refreshment,  by  filling  of 
fiasks,  and  stowing  away  of  biscuits  and  lumps  of  cheese. 
Presently  the  wind  rises,  and  the  storm  thickens ; the 
new  covering  of  snow  seems  to  draw  out  the  frost  from 
the  old  crusted  surface,  and  the  moccasin  now  steps 
noiselessly  in  the  tracks  of  the  game.  That  day,  or  on 
the  next,  there  is  no  need  of  porcupine  soup,  for  huge 
steaks  hang  from  the  camp-poles,  and  a rich  and  savoury 


158 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


odour  pervades  the  camp,  whilst  the  hissing  frying-pan 
tops  the  logs. 

The  want  of  a fresh  fall  of  snow  had  thus  interrupted 
our  sports  in  the  Parsboro’  country  for  some  days,  when 
the  welcome  flakes  at  last  came  down  one  wild  stormy 
night,  and  covered  the  forest  and  barren  with  a clean 
mantle  of  three  or  four  inches,  obliterating  the  old  tracks, 
and  softening  the  crust  so  that  it  again  became  practicable 
to  stalk  the  wary  cariboo.  IMany  times  had  we  started 
small  herds  on  the  barren,  and  in  the  greenwoods,  with- 
out sighting  them ; the  first  token  of  their  proximity, 
and  of  their  having  taken  alarm,  being  the  crashing  of 
the  branches  which  they  breasted  in  flight. 

It  was  a beautiful  hunting  morning  on  which,  after 
the  new  fall  of  the  previous  night,  we  trudged  along  the 
forest-path  leading  from  our  camp  to  the  barrens,  and 
made  sure  of  shots  during  the  day,  for  the  change  of 
wind,  and  the  storm,  would  cause  a movement  among  the 
deer.  A mile  or  so  from  camp  the  snow  was  ploughed 
up  by  a multitude  of  fresh  tracks  ; a herd  of  cariboo  had 
lust  crossed  it ; there  could  not  have  been  less  than 
thirty  of  them,  all  going  south  from  the  barrens.  We  at 
once  struck  into  the  woods  after  them,  and  followed  for 
about  an  hour,  when  the  herd  divided  into  two  streams. 
One  of  these  we  followed,  the  tracks  every  moment  be- 
coming fresher,  until,  on  passing  through  a dense  alder 
thicket  which  grew  over  water,  treacherously  covered 
with  raised  ice,  the  ice  gave  way  with  a crash,  and  we  at 
the  same  moment  heard  the  game  start.  We  rushed  on 
as  fast  as  possible,  for  they  had  not  seen  or  winded  us, 
and  might  possibly  think  the  noise  proceeded  merely 
from  the  ice  falling  in,  as  it  often  does  when  suspended 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


159 


over  water  and  laden  with  snow.  Presently  the  tracks 
showed  they  were  walking,  and  on  entering  a thick 
covert  of  young  spruces,  whose  lower  branches,  thickly 
covered  with  snow,  prevented  our  seeing  far  ahead,  the 
Indian  said,  There — fire  ! and  a bounding  form  or  two 
flashed  through  an  opening  in  the  bush  with  such 
rapidity  that  we  could  scarcely  say  that  we  had  seen 
them.  Our  barrels  were  levelled  and  discharged,  but,  as 
might  be  expected,  without  effect.  The  deer  had  been 
lying  down,  and  had  seen  our  legs  under  the  lower 
branches  before  the  Indian  was  aware  of  their  pre- 
sence. 

Williams  said,  '^I  ’most  afraid  we  couldn’t  get  shot. 
Caliboo  very  hard  to  creep  when  shiftin’  their  ground  : 
don’t  stop  and  feed  much,  and  when  they  lie  down  they 
watchin’  all  the  time,  and  then  up  agen  ’most  directly. 
I know  them  caliboo  makin’  for  some  big  barrens,  five  or 
six  mile  away.” 

We  then  turned  back  to  the  northward,  and,  recrossing 
the  road,  made  for  the  barrens  where  my  dead  cariboo 
were  lying.  The  place  was  marked  by  the  great  pile  of 
snow  which  we  had  shovelled  over  them,  and  by  the 
skins  suspended  on  a rampike  hard  by ; no  wild  animals 
had  disturbed  the  meat,  though  great  numbers  of  moose- 
birds  and  jays  were  screaming  around,  apparently  dis- 
tressed that  the  fresh  snow  had  covered  up  their  little 
pickings  in  the  shape  of  offal,  which  had  been  left  around. 
Here  we  sat  down  on  a log,  after  clearing  off  the  snow, 
to  eat  our  biscuit  and  Imoach  the  flasks  (for  we  had 
trudged  many  miles  since  breakfast,  and  the  sun  was 
past  the  south) — the  Indian,  always  restless,  and  perhaps 
anxious  to  take  a survey  of  the  country  unimpeded  by 


160 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  AGADIE. 


followers,  going  off  towards  the  greenwoods,  distant  a few 
hundred  yards,  munching  as  he  went. 

“ A capital  fellow  is  old  John,”  said  I to  my  comrade. 
“ ril  bet  you  what  you  like  he  comes  back  with  some 
news.  IVe  often  seen  him  go  off  in  this  manner  whilst 
you  are  eating,  or  resting,  or  smoking,  and  uncertain 
what  to  do,  and  come  back  in  half  an  hour  or  so,  appa- 
rently having  learnt  more  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  game 
than  he  had  when  in  your  company  during  the  whole 
morning’s  hunt.” 

We  were  not  detained  very  long,  however — indeed, 
had  hardly  finished  the  biscuit — when,  on  looking  to- 
wards the  edge  of  the  forest,  which  he  had  entered  a few 
minutes  previously,  we  saw  John  emerge,  and  make  his 
way  back  to  us  with  unusual  celerity  ; and,  seeing  there 
was  game  afoot,  we  picked  up  the  guns  and  advanced  to 
meet  him. 

‘‘  Come  on,”  says  John,  ‘‘just  see  three  or  four  of  ’em 
walking  quietly  along  inside  the  woods — didn’t  start  ’em, 
I guess.  Be  easy,  now  ; lots  of  time.”  And  off  we  go 
after  John,  as  quietly  as  he  would  have  us,  and  soon  find 
the  track  of  the  cariboo.  John  leads  rapidly  forward, 
bending  almost  double  to  get  a glimpse  of  them  through 
the  branches  ahead  ; but  no,  they  have  left  the  woods, 
and  taken  to  the  open  again,  and  we  follow  into  a swamp 
thickly  sprinkled  with  little  fir  trees  of  about  our  own 
height.  The  bog  is  very  wet,  having  never  frozen,  and 
Ave  sink  up  to  our  knees  in  the  swamp,  through  the 
wet  surface-snow,  withdraAving  our  feet  and  legs  at  each 
step,  Avith  a noise  like  drawing  a cork.  It  is  hard  work 
getting  along,  and  already  we  are  rather  out  of  breath  ; 
but  we  must  keep  on,  for  cariboo  are  smart  walkers,  and 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


161 


until  they  come  to  a place  where  they  have  an  inclination 
to  loiter  and  browse,  are  apt  to  lead  one  a dance  for  many 
hours,  particularly  when  they  have  taken  a notion  to 
shift  their  country.  Ha  ! there  goes  one  of  them  ; his 
black  muzzle  and  dusky  back  just  showing  above  the 
bushes  at  the  further  end  of  the  swamp — and  another, 
and  another.  Bang  goes  a barrel  a-piece  from  each 
of  us  (we  are  in  echelon),  and  the  nearest  one  falters, 
either  wounded  or  confused,  as  they  sometimes  become 
by  the  firing.  He  is  again  making  off,  and  passing  an 
opening  ; the  other  guns  floundering  forward  in  hopes  of 
getting  nearer,  when,  steadying  myself,  and  taking  good 
aim,  he  falls  instantaneously  to  my  second  barrel.  John, 
with  a yell,  rushes  up,  and  getting  astride  of  the 
struggling  beast,  quickly  terminates  his  existence  with 
his  long  hunting-knife.  It  was  a fine  doe  cariboo,  with 
a very  dark  hide,  and  in  fair  condition.  The  others 
having  never  been  fairly  within  shot,  we  were  satisfied, 
and  after  the  usual  process  returned  to  camp,  our  path 
being  enlivened  by  the  bright  rays  of  a lovely  moon. 
We  all  agreed  that  no  finer  sport  could  be  obtained 
amongst  the  larger  game  than  cariboo-shooting.  This 
deer  is  so  wary,  such  a constant  and  fast  traveller,  and 
so  quick  in  getting  up  and  bounding  out  of  range  when 
started  in  the  woods,  that  an  aim  as  rapid  and  true  as  in 
cock-shooting  is  required  ; and,  when  he  is  down,  every 
pound  of  the  meat  repays  for  backing  it  out  of  the  woods, 
being,  in  my  opinion,  far  finer  wild  meat  than  any  other 
venison  I have  tasted. 

The  next  day  I walked  with  the  other  Indian  (Noel) 
to  the  Buctoukteegun  plains,  some  ten  miles  distant  from 
our  camp — great  plains  of  miles  and  miles  in  extent, 


M 


162 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


covered  with  little  islands  of  dwarf  spruces  of  a few  feet 
in  height.  This  is  a great  place  of  resort  for  cariboo  ; 
they  come  out  from  the  forest  on  to  the  plains  on  fine 
sunny  mornings,  and  scrape  up  the  snow  to  get  at  the 
moss.  Having  passed  a night  in  a lumberer  s camp,  we 
proceeded  next  morning  to  the  plains,  which  the  Indian 
would  scan  from  a tall  spruce,  to  see  if  there  were  game 
on  them  ; and  ha\dng  bagged  my  cariboo,  and  given 
part  of  it  to  the  lumberers,  who  seemed  very  thankful. 
Vie  made  up  the  hind  quarters  and  hide  into  two  loads, 
and  arrived  in  camp  the  same  evening.  My  companion, 
whose  shots  I had  heard  the  day  previous,  had  had 
excellent  sport  on  the  barrens,  having  killed  four  cariboo ; 
and  the  following  day  I kiUed  a magnificent  buck,  which 
weighed  nearly  four  hundred-weight,  after  a long  chase 
of  six  miles  through  the  green  woods  from  the  spot 
where  I had  first  wounded  him,  the  Indian  (it  was 
Williams)  keeping  on  his  track,  though  it  had  passed 
through  multitudes  of  others,  with  unerring  perseverance. 

Then  comes  the  hauling  out  the  meat.  Old  H , the 

last  settler,  whose  house  is  not  far  from  our  camp,  is  sent 
for,  and  contracts  for  the  job,  and  one  fine  morning  his 
voice,  as  he  urges  on  his  patient  bullocks  towards  the 
camp,  and  the  grating  of  the  sled  upon  the  snow,  are 
heard  as  we  sit  at  breakfast.  Leaving  his  team  munch- 
ing an  armful  of  hay  in  the  path,  he  comes  to  the  camp 
door,  and,  pushing  aside  the  blanket  which  covers  the 
entrance,  accosts  us, — 

‘‘  ^lorning,  gents.  Ah  ! Ingines,  how  d ye  make  out — 
most  ready  to  start  ? WeVe  got  a tidy  spell  to  go  for 
the  cariboo  by  all  accounts,  and  my  team  aint  noways 
what  you  may  caU  strong.  However,  I suppose  we  must 


CARIBOO  HUNTING. 


163 


manage  it  somehow,  and  accommodate  a gentleman  like 
you  appear  to  be.^^ 

All  right,  my  good  man,  we  are  ready  ; and  John 
and  Noel  will  go  ahead  and  haul  out  the  cariboo  from 
the  barren  to  the  road  ; and  off  we  go,  a merry  party, 
following  the  ox  sled,  whilst  the  old  settler  shouts  un- 
ceasingly to  his  cattle,  ''  Haw  ! Bright — Gee  ! Diamond  ; 
what  are  ye  ’bout  there,  ye  lazy  beasts  V’  and  the  great 
strong  animals  go  steadily  forward,  occasionally  bringing 
their  broad  foreheads  in  violent  contact  with  a tree  ; but 
proceeding,  on  being  set  right,  with  perfect  unconcern, 
till  we  come  to  the  edge  of  the  barren.  Here  the  Indians 
had  already  hauled  out  two  of  the  cariboo  by  straps 
fastened  to  the  horns,  drawing  the  carcases  easily  over 
the  surface  of  the  snow,  and  in  a couple  of  hours  we  were 
again  en  route  for  home,  with  everything  packed  up, 
guns  in  case,  and  nine  cariboo  as  trophies. 

The  frozen  carcases  were  pitched  down  into  the  hold  of 
the  little  schooner,  the  same  one  which  had  brought  us 
across  before  ; and  in  a few  hours,  with  a fresh  breeze 
following  us,  we  grated  safely  through  the  floating  fleld 
of  ice  which  nearly  blocked  up  the  basin  of  Minas,  and 
landed  at  Windsor,  Nova  Scotia,  and  so  to  Halifax. 


CHAPTEE  VIL 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 

THE  BEAVER. 

The  number  and  extent  of  its  lakes,  scattered  tlirougb- 
out  the  extent  of  this  picturesque  province,  invariably 
surprise  the  visitor  to  Nova  Scotia.  Of  every  variety  of 
size  and  form,  and  generally  containing  groups  of  little 
wooded  islands,  they  occupy  almost  every  hollow,  and, 
often  connected,  stretch  away  in  long  chains  through  the 
interior,  presenting  the  most  charming  scenery  to  those 
who  seek  sport  or  the  picturesque  through  the  back 
country.  Lake  Rossignol,  in  the  western  portion  of  the 
province,  is  the  largest ; the  waters  which  pass  through 
it  rise  near  Annapolis  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and, 
accumulating  in  a long  series  of  lakes,  issue  from  Rossig- 
nol as  a large  river  which  falls  into  the  Atlantic  at  the 
town  of  Liverpool.  By  this  line  of  water  communication, 
almost  crossing  the  province,  the  most  secluded  recesses 
of  the  wild  country  can  be  reached  by  means  of  the 
Indian  canoe,  an  easy  and  delightful  mode  of  progression 
on  the  smooth  lake,  though  it  involves  some  danger 
among  the  rocks  and  rapids  of  the  river,  which,  if  insur- 
mountable, entail  the  “portage,’’  and  a weary  tramp. 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


1C5 


perhaps,  through  a long  stretch  of  forest  with  canoe, 
commissariat,  and  luggage. 

To  the  eye  of  the  naturalist  one  of  the  most  interesting 
points  in  connection  with  the  chain  of  lakes  referred  to 
is,  that  on  their  banks  are  the  houses  of  the  few  families 
of  beaver  left  in  the  province  ; for  though  their  works 
and  the  fruit  of  their  labours  attest  their  presence 
formerly  in  every  direction,  not  a beaver  exists  from  the 
Port  Medway  Eiver  — a few  miles  eastward  of  the 
Eossignol  waters — and  the  eastern  end  of  Cape  Breton. 
This  animal  was  formerly  abundant  throughout  the 
British  Provinces,  and  a large  portion  of  the  United 
States,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  coast,  and  would 
ere  this  have  totally  disappeared  from  the  maritime 
pro^dnces,  but  for  the  caprice  of  fashion  in  hats  which, 
substituting  silk  for  the  beaver-nap,  arrested  its  destruc- 
tion, and  thereby,  as  Mr.  Marsh  suggests,  in  Man  and 
Nature,”  involved  possible  alterations  in  the  physical 
features  of  a continent.  Nova  Scotia  abounds  in  all  the 
conditions  necessary  to  its  existence — rivers,  brooks  and 
swampy  lakes — and  its  former  abundance  is  attested  by 
the  prevalence  of  such  names  as  “ Beaverbank,”  ‘‘  Beaver 
Harbour,”  and  the  numerous  “ Beaver  Lakes  ” and 
‘'Beaver  Eivers”  scattered  round  the  Province.  The 
market  being  so  near,  and  its  haunts  so  accessible  and 
easy  of  observation,  it  is  surprising  that  its  extermination 
in  this  part  of  America  has  not  been  long  since  effected. 
Indeed,  the  animal  now  appears  to  be  on  the  increase. 

In  past  times,  undoubtedly,  the  beaver  has  had  much 
to  do  with  the  formation  of  the  “wild  meadows,’'  as 
they  are  locally  termed,  which  are  of  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  backwoods,  and  from  which  the  settler  draws 


166 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


plentiful  supplies  for  feeding  his  stock  in  winter,  and  the 
following  was  evidently  the  process.  Wherever  a brook 
trickled  through  a valley,  the  beaver  would  bar  its  course 
by  its  strong  compact  dam,  thus  securing  sufficient  back- 
water to  form  a pond,  on  the  edge  of  which  to  build  its 
dome-shaped  house.  Large  spaces  in  the  woods  thus 
became  inundated,  the  drowned  trees  fell  and  decayed, 
and  freshets  brought  accessions  of  soil  from  the  hills. 
At  length  the  pond  filled  up,  and  the  colony  migrated, 
or  were  exterminated.  The  water  drained  through  the 
unrepaired  dam ; and  on  the  fine  alluvial  soil  exposed, 
sprang  up  those  rich  waving  fields  of  wild  grass,  monu- 
ments of  the  former  industry  of  the  beaver,  and  now  a 
source  of  profit  to  its  thankless  destro}’nrs. 

To  return,  however,  to  Lake  Eossignol  and  its  beavers. 
Attracted  thither  by  the  charms  of  a canoe  voyage  on  the 
lakes  at  the  commencement  of  the  glorious  fall,  and 
anxious  to  inspect  the  houses  and  dams  of  these  curious 
animals,  we  hired  our  two  frail  barks  and  the  services  of 
three  Indians  at  the  toAvn  of  Liverpool,  Nova  Scotia,  and, 
avoiding  the  ascent  of  the  rapid  river  as  too  arduous  a 
mode  of  access,  sent  canoes  and  luggage  by  a cross  road 
to  a line  of  waters  which  flowed  evenly  into  the  great 
lake,  and  where  we  embarked  for  our  explorations.  The 
following  notes  from  my  Camp  Journal  will  give  a nar- 
ration of  our  observations  and  progress  : — 

‘‘August  28. 

“ Encamped  comfortably  in  a cove  of  the  second  lake 
of  the  Eossignol  Chain,  which  was  reached  late  in  the 
evening,  vid  the  Sixteen-Mile  Lakes,  where  the  canoes 
were  embarked.  The  unwonted  exercise  of  the  first  long 
day  s paddling  has  somewhat  unsteadied  the  hand  for 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


167 


writing  up  tlie  notes.  The  scenery  on  the  above-named 
lakes  very  pretty,  and  the  water  in  good  order  for  canoe- 
ing, a light  breeze  following  us  and  cooling  the  air. 
Lunched  on  an  island,  and,  leaving  the  lakes,  entered  a 
small  rapid  stream.  Here  the  shade  of  the  maples,  which 
completely  overhung  the  brook,  was  most  grateful,  and 
the  light  green  of  the  sunlit  foliage  reflected  in  the  water, 
with  masses  of  king-fern,  and  a variety,  of  herbaceous 
plants  growing  luxuriously  on  the  banks,  grey  rock 
boulders  with  waving  crowns  of  polypodium  rising  from 
the  stream.,  and  reflected  on  its  smooth  though  swiftly- 
gliding  surface,  and  the  moss-covered  stems  of  fallen 
trees  which  continually  bridged  it  over,  formed  an  ever- 
changing  panorama,  which  evoked  many  expressions  of 
delight  as  we  quietly  glided  down  the  brook — a beau- 
tiful realisation  of  Tennysons  idyll.  The  water  was 
clear  as  crystal,  and  covered  golden  gravel,  and  there 
were  frequent  ‘silvery  water-breaks,'  caused  by  trout 
jumping  at  the  multitudes  of  small  blue  and  green 
ephemerse  which  danced  above.  Here  we  first  saw  the 
works  of  beaver.  Pointing  towards  the  bank,  on  sud- 
denly rounding  a turn  in  the  brook,  our  head  Indian 
Glode  whispered,  ‘ There  beaver-house  ; ' and  we  held 
by  a projecting  rock  to  examine  the  structure  for  a few 
moments.  I confess  I was  disappointed.  Instead  of  the 
regular  mud-plastered  dome  I had  expected  and  seen 
depicted  in  all  works  of  natural  history,  the  house 
appeared  merely  as  an  irregular  pile  of  barked  sticks, 
very  broad  at  the  base  compared  with  its  height,  and 
looking  much  like  a gigantic  crow  s nest  inverted,  and 
formed  without  any  apparent  design.  It  was  in  present 
occupation,  for  the  tall  surrounding  fern  was  beaten 


163 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


down  all  around.  ‘All  pretty  mucli  same/  said  Glode 
in  answer  to  our  question,  as  we  again  dropped  down 
the  stream.  Presently  the  rippling  of  water  ahead 
showed  a slight  fall,  and  on  arriving  at  the  spot  the  bow 
of  the  canoe  grated  on  submerged  bushes.  It  was  the 
dam — always  placed  below — belonging  to  the  house,  and 
was  evidently  in  course  of  construction,  a process  which 
we  were  unavoidably  compelled  to  defer,  by  standing  on 
a flat  rock,  and,  hauling  out  bushes  by  the  armful,  to 
open  a passage  for  the  canoes.  Several  other  houses 
were  passed,  at  intervals,  of  about  a quarter  of  a mile,  alP 
similar  in  appearance,  and  some  of  great  size.  Our 
anxiety  to  get  to  the  big  lake  prevented  us,  however, 
from  examining  the  structure  closely.  On  this  brook  I 
first  saw  the  blossoms  and  tendrils  of  a beautiful  climb- 
ing plant  which  grew  up  luxuriantly  amongst  the  bushes, 
and  encircled  small  stems  to  a considerable  height — the 
Indian  potato-plant  (Apios  tuberosa) — one  of  the  sources 
of  food  used  by  the  old  Indians  before  they  left  the  woods 
and  their  forest  fare  for  the  neighbourhood  of  civihzation, 
and  adopted  its  food,  clothing,  and  depraving  associa- 
tions: The  flowers  are  like  those  of  the  sweet  pea,  and 
arranged  in  a whorl,  possessing  a pleasant  though  rather 
faint  smell.  The  cluster  of  bulbs  at  its  root,  called 
potatoes,  are  of  about  the  average  size  of  small  new 
potatoes,  and  have  a flavour  like  a chestnut.’^ 

Two  or  three  miles  further,  through  an  open  country 
covered  with  the  bleached  stems  of  a burnt  forest, 
brought  us  to  the  middle  lake  of  the  Kossignol  Chain, 
which  we  quickly  crossed  to  camp. 

On  the  following  afternoon  we  entered  Kossignol  after 

O O 

some  rather  stiff  paddling.  Two  large  lakes,  affording 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


1G9 


no  shelter  of  rocks  or  islands,  were  crossed  in  the  teeth 
of  a strong  breeze,  and  the  bows  of  our  canoes  were  fre- 
quently  overtopped  by  the  waves.  For  security  the 
paddlers  crouched  in  the  bottom  instead  of  sitting,  as  is 
usual,  on  the  thin  strips  of  ash  which  constitute  the 
thwarts  in  the  bow  and  stern.  Perfect  in  symmetry, 
and  capable  of  conveying  four  persons,  the  canoes  were 
of  the  smallest  construction  compatible  with  safety  on 
the  rapid  river  or  its  broad  lakes.  They  were  eighteen  feet 
in  length,  and  weighed  but  sixty  pounds  each.  From  an 
end-on  point  of  view,  the  paddlers  seemed  supported  by 
almost  nothing — the  bark  sides  projecting  but  a few 
inches  beyond  the  breadth  of  their  bodies,  and  the  gun- 
wale nearly  flush  with  the  water.  But  we  were  “ old 
hands,''  and  were  determined  to  camp  that  night  on  the 
big  lake  ; and  the  light  barks,  impelled  by  strokes  which 
made  the  handles  of  the  paddles  bend  like  reeds,  forged 
ahead  through  chopping  seas  till  we  reached  the  shelter 
of  the  rocky  islands  at  the  foot  of  Lake  Rossignol.  Here 
the  lakes  were  connected  by  a rapid  run,  where,  beaching 
the  canoes,  we  enjoyed  capital  trouting  for  a couple  of 
hours — killing  over  five  dozen  fish  averaging  one  pound 
- — and  dined  on  shore,  picking  a profuse  dessert  of  blue 
and  buckle  berries.  A glorious  view  was  unfolded  as  we 
left  the  run  and  entered  the  still  water  of  the  lake.  The 
breeze  fell  rapidly  with  the  sun,  and  enabled  us  to  steer 
towards  the  centre,  from  which  alone  the  size  of  the  lake 
could  be  appreciated,  owing  to  the  number  of  its  islands. 
These  were  of  every  imaginable  shape  and  size — from  the 
grizzly  rock  bearing  a solitary  stunted  pine,  shaggy  with 
Usnea,  to  those  of  a mile  in  length,  thickly  wooded  with 
maple,  beech,  and  birches,  now  wearing  the  first  pure 


170 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


tints  of  autumnal  colour.  From  near  its  centre  was  un- 
folded a view  of  the  greatest  expanse  of  water.  The 
distant  shores  were  enveloped  in  haze,  but  appeared 
fringed  with  a dark  fir  forest  to  the  water’s  edge.  Here 
and  there  a bright  spot  of  white  sand  formed  a beach 
tempting  for  a disembarkation ; and  frequent  sylvan 
scenes  of  an  almost  fairy-land  character  opened  up  as 
we  coasted  along  the  shores — little  harbours  almost 
closed-in  from  the  lake,  overgrown  with  water-lilies, 
arrow-heads,  and  other  aquatic  plants,  with  mossy  banks 
backed  by  bosky  groves  of  hemlocks  ; cool  retreats  which 
the  soft  moss  covering  the  soil,  and  the  perfect  shade  of 
the  dense  foliage  overhead,  indicated  as  most  desirable 
spots  for  camping.  The  wild  cry  of  the  loon  resounded 
all  over  the  lake,  and  mergansers  and  black  ducks 
wheeled  overhead  as  they  left  their  feeding-gTounds  for 
their  accustomed  resting-places.  Only  one  sight  re- 
minded us  of  civilization.  On  the  crest  of  a distant 
hiU,  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  lighted  on  a little  patch  of 
cleared  ground  and  glanced  on  the  window  of  a solitary 
dwellinof.  Our  Indians  said  it  was  a settler’s  house  in  Hew 
Caledonia,  on  the  forest  road  from  Liverpool  to  Annapolis. 

Warned  at  length  by  the  mellowing  light  which 
seemed  to  blend  lake  and  sky  into  one,  we  steered  the 
canoes  into  a sheltered  cove,  and  lighted  om’  first  camp 
fire  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Eossignol.  This  was  our  head- 
quarters ; and  here  for  a week  we  gave  ourselves  up  to 
the  dreamy  pleasures  of  a life  in  the  woods.  Our  easy 
mode  of  travel  enabling  us  to  take  every  desirable  luxury, 
we  ate  our  trout  with  Worcester  sauce,  and  baked  our 
bread  in  an  Indian  oven  ; we  fished  in  the  runs,  bathed 
in  the  sandy  coves,  visited  and  were  visited  by  the  lum- 


LAKE  DWELLEES. 


171 


berers,  who  were  rafting  their  logs  down  to  the  sea,  and 
made  frequent  excursions  up  the  affluent  waters  of  the 
lake  in  search  of  beavers  and  their  works.  With  regard 
to  the  latter,  I will  here  again  introduce  a few  pages  of 
my  journal : — 

''August  30th. 

"A  bright  morning,  very  hot.  After  breakfast  as- 
cended the  Tobiaduc  stream  at  the  north-west  end  of 
the  lake.  Here  the  scenery  becomes  very  beautiful.  The 
river  is  broad  and  still ; the  woods  on  either  side  much 
inundated ; and  the  maple  brightly  coloured  with  orange 
and  scarlet — probably  more  from  unhealthiness  produced 
by  the  high  water  than  by  early  frosts.  Pass  some  ' 
exquisite  island  scenery ; the  reflections  perfect.  A 
snake  swims  across  under  the  bows  of  tny  canoe,  its 
head  carried  an  inch  above  the  surface.  Passing  a steep 
bank,  a beaver  rushes  out  of  a dense  patch  of  king-fern, 
and  takes  to  the  water  with  a plunge  ; and  we  follow  his 
track,  faintly  indicated  on  the  surface,  towards  an  old 
beaver-house  a few  rods  up  stream.  ‘ I heard  him  dove,' 
observed  Glode,  on  arriving  : the  animal  had  mistrusted 
the  strength  of  his  fortress  ; and  pursuit  was  hopeless. 

" Five  or  six  miles  from  the  lake,  we  come  to  the  car- 
rying place  or  portage,  whence  a woodland  path  leads  by 
a short  cut  to  Tobiaduc  lake,  and  saves  many  a mile  of 
heavy  poking  against  the  rapids  of  the  river.  The  road 
lay  through  a dark  mossy  forest  of  hemlocks,  soft  and 
pleasant  walking  when  unencumbered  by  loads,  but  very 
fatiguing  under  the  weight  of  canoes  and  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  a camp.  ' Indian  mile,  long  and  narrer,' 
drily  observed  old  Glode,  on  our  casual  inquiry  as  to 
how  much  further  we  had  to  trudge.  The  forest  gloom 


172 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


at  lengtli  liglitens,  and  the  gleam  of  water  ahead  brings 
ns  to  the  Tobiadnc  lakes,  where  a couple  of  ruffed  grouse, 
shot  en  route,  were  cooked  d la  spatch-cock,  and  we 
dined  on  a service  of  bu’ch-bark  dishes. 

‘‘  Late  in  the  afternoon,  our  canoes,  leaving  the  lakes, 
entered  the  Tobiadnc  brook,  a picturesque  stream  similar 
to  the  sixteen-mile  brook  before  mentioned.  The  lovely 
scenery  of  these  forest  streams  must  be  seen  to  be  fully 
appreciated.  The  foliage  in  spots  is  almost  tropical ; 
wild  vines  and  creepers  crowd  the  waters  edge,  with 
towering  clumps  of  royal  fern  (Osmunda  regalis)  ; airy 
groves  of  birches  witli  stems  of  purest  white  are  suc- 
ceeded by  fir-woods,  under  which  the  graceful  moose- 
wood  and  swamp  maple  brighten  the  gloom  as  their 
broad  leaves  catch  the  sunlight  ; the  pigeon  berry 
(Cornus  canadensis)  bedizens  the  moss  with  its  well- 
contrasting clumps  of  scarlet  berries  ; and  great  boulders 
of  grey  rock,  circled  over  with  concentric  lichens,  moss 
covered,  and  their  crannies  filled  with  poUypods  and 
oak-fern,  overhang  the  water  in  stern  and  sohtary  gran- 
deur. Every  rock  projecting  from  the  stream  is  seized 
upon  by  moss,  whence  grow  a few  ferns  or  seedling 
maples  ; and  the  play  of  the  sunlight  as  it  breaks 
through  the  arched  foliage  above  and  fights  up  these 
little  groups  produces  most  exquisite  effects.  This  is  the 
home  of  the  beaver  and  the  kingfisher.  The  ferns  and 
grasses  on  the  banks  are  trodden  down  by  the  former 
in  its  paths,  and  the  latter  flits  from  bush  to  bush  with 
loud  rattling  screams  as  the  canoe  invades  its  piscatorial 
domains. 

“ At  length  there  was  an  obstruction  in  the  stream  over 
which  the  waters  fell  evenly.  It  was  a beaver-dam — a 


BEAVER-DAM  ON  THE  TOBIADUC. 


LAKE  DWELLEES. 


173 


solid  construction  of  interwoven  bushes  and  poles,  dam- 
ming up  the  water  behind  to  a height  of  between  three 
and  four  feet,  and  completely  altering  the  features  of  the 
brook,  which  from  this  point  was  all  still  water.  We 
landed  on  the  top  to  open  out  a portion,  and  thereby 
facilitate  the  canoes  being  lifted  over.  Some  of  the 
work  was  quite  fresh,  and  green  leaves  tipped  the  ends 
of  projecting  branches ; whilst  on  the  shore  lay  a pile  of 
water-rotted  material  that  had  been  removed,  >nd  evi- 
dently considered  unserviceable.  Stones  and  mud  were 
plentifully  intermixed  with  the  bushes,  which  were 
mostly  cut  into  lengths  of  twelve  to  eighteen  feet,  and 
woven  together  across  the  stream.  The  top,  which 
would  support  us  all  without  yielding,  was  about  two 
feet  broad,  and  the  dam  thickened  below  the  surface. 
Some  stout  bushes  leaned  against  the  construction  in 
front.  They  were  planted  in  the  bed  of  the  stream ; 
and,  as  Glode  said,  were  used  as  supports  in  making  the 
dam.  Above  was  a long  meadow  of  wild  grass  to  which* 
the  white  gaunt  stems  of  dead  pines,  drowned  ages  since 
by  the  heightened  level  of  the  stream,  imparted  a deso- 
late appearance,  and  near  the  head  of  which  the  beavers 
had  their  habitations.^’ 

This  dam,  and  one  or  two  others  which  I had  an 
opportunity  of  observing,  was  built  straight  across  the 
stream,  but  it  is  a well  authenticated  fact  that  in  larger 
works,  where  the  channel  is  broader,  and  liable  to  heavy 
waters,  the  dam  is  made  convex  to  the  current.  Some- 
times a small  island  in  the  centre  is  taken  advantagfe  of, 
and  the  dam  built  out  to  it  from  either  bank,  as  in- 
stanced by  a very  large  one  noticed  on  the  Sable  river,  a 
few  miles  west  of  Kossignol,  where  the  sticks  used  in  its 


174 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


construction  were  often  three  indies  in  diameter,  and  the 
country  above,  on  either  side,  flooded  to  the  extent  of 
nearly  two  feet,  covering  about  one  thousand  acres  of 
meadow  land.  These  dams  possess  great  strength  and 
durability.  In  old  and  deserted  works  trees  spring  from 
the  soil,  which  is  plentifully  mixed  with  the  brushwood 
and  grass  covers  the  embankment.*  Many  such  monu- 
ments of  the  former  labours  of  the  beaver  are  to  be  seen 
in  Nova  Scotia,  in  districts  long  since  untenanted. 

As  the  beaver  residing  on  the  lakes  does  not  build  a 
dam  in  the  vicinity  of  his  dwelling,  the  reason  of  the 
strong  instinct  implanted  in  this  animal  to  produce  these 
marvellous  constructions  under  other  ch’cumstances  be- 
comes apparent. f Whenever,  from  the  situation  or  nature 
of  the  water,  there  is  a probability  of  the  supply  becom- 
ing shortened  by  drought,  and  to  ensure  sufficient  water 
to  enter  his  dwelling  from  beneath  the  ice  in  winter,  the 
beaver  constructs  a dam  below  to  maintain  the  supply  of 
water  necessary  to  meet  either  of  these  contingencies. 
In  former  years,  when  beaver  abounded  in  all  parts  of 


* Mr.  Tliompson,  whose  writings  are  preserved  in  Canada  as  most  valuable 
and  authentic,  speaking  of  a heaver-dam  which  he  saw,  states  : “ On  a tine 
afternoon  in  October,  1794,  the  leaves  beginning  to  fall  with  every  breeze, 
my  guide  informed  me  that  we  should  have  to  pass  over  a long  beaver-dam. 
I naturally  expected  that  we  should  have  to  lead  our  horses  carefully  over  it. 
When  we  came  to  it,  we  found  it  a stripe  of  apparently  old  solid  ground, 
covered  with  short  grass,  and  wide  enough  for  two  horses  to  walk  abreast. 
The  lower  side  showed  a descent  of  seven  feet,  and  steep,  with  a rill  of 
water  from  beneath  it  ; the  side  of  the  dam  next  the  water  was  a gentle 
slope.  To  the  southward  was  a sheet  of  water  of  about  one  mile  and  a half 
square,  surrounded  by  low  grassy  banks.  The  forests  were  mostly  of  poplar 
and  aspen,  with  numerous  stumps  of  the  trees  cut  dovui,  and  partly  carried 
away  by  the  beavers.  In  two  places  of  tliis  pond  were  a cluster  of  beaver- 
houses  like  miniature  villages.” 

t I have,  hoAvever,  seen  the  outlet  of  very  small  lakes  dammed  up, 
evidently  to  raise  the  level  of  the  surface  to  some  eligible  site  near  the 
margin,  which  has  offered  some  advantage  or  other. 


LAKE  DWELLEKS. 


175 


the  Province,  it  is  evident  from  the  numerous  beaver 
meadows  now  left  dry,  that  they  took  advantage  not 
only  of  valleys  traversed  by  small  brooks,  but  even  of 
swampy  lands  occasionally  inundated  by  heavy  rains. 

The  beaver-house  is  constructed  of  the  same  materials 
as  the  dam.  Branches  of  trees  and  bushes,  partially 
trimmed  and  closely  interwoven,  are  mixed  with  stones, 
gravel  or  mud,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  soil ; and 
on  the  outside  are  strewed  the  barked  sticks  of  willow, 
poplar,  or  birch,  on  which  the  animal  feeds.  As  before 
stated,  it  looks  like  a huge  birds  nest,  turned  upside 
down,  and  is  generally  located  in  the  grassy  coves  of 
lakes,  by  the  edge  of  still-water  runs  or  of  artificial 
ponds,  and,  less  frequently,  by  a river  side,  where  a bend 
or  jutting  rocks  afford  a deep  eddying  pool  near  the 
bank.  The  house  rests  on  the  bank,  but  always  overlaps 
the  water,  into  which  the  front  part  is  immersed ; and, 
as  a general  rule,  the  bottom  of  the  stream  or  lake  is 
deepened  in  the  channel  approaching  the  entrance  by 
dredging,  thereby  ensuring  a free  passage  below  the  ice. 
In  these  channels  or  canals,  easily  found  by  probing 
with  the  paddle,  the  hunter  sets  his  iron  spring-traps. 
The  following  passages  from  my  camp  notes  describe  the 
construction  of  the  beaver-house,  as  shown  in  all  the 
habitations  which  we  examined  in  these  waters  : — 

“Foot  of  Rossionol,  September  4. 

‘‘  Camped  on  a beautiful  spot,  the  effluence  of  the 
river  from  the  lake,  in  Indian  parlance,  the  ‘ segedwick,’ 
always  a favourite  camping  ground.  It  was  a decided 
oak  opening,  an  open  grove  of  white  oaks,  with  a soft 
sward  underneath  ; the  trees  were  grouped  as  in  a park. 


176 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


A few  low  islands  covered  with  ferns  partially  broke  the 
breadth  of  the  river,  which  here  left  the  smooth  expanses 
of  the  lake  on  its  race  to  the  Atlantic,  about  twenty 
miles  below ; and  here  our  rods  bent  incessantly  over 
the  struggles  of  trout,  frequently  two  at  a time.  We 
intend  staying  here  several  days  to  rest  after  the  long 
weary  journey  up  and  down  the  Tobiaduc  stream  ; and 
as  it  is  now  September,  a brace  or  two  of  ruffed  grouse,  or 
even  a moose  steak,  may  add  to  our  hitherto  scanty  forest 
fare  of  porcupine  and  trout.  Beneath  these  white  oaks 
repose  the  sffes  of  the  hlicmacs  of  this  district ; it  was 
once  a populous  village,  of  which  the  only  remaining 
tokens  are  the  swelling  mounds  covered  with  fern,  and 
the  plentiful  bones,  the  produce  of  the  chase,  scattered 
over  the  ground.  Our  canoe-men  seemed  quite  subdued, 
perhaps  a little  overcome  by  superstitious  awe  on  pitch- 
ing our  camp  here  on  the  site  of  their  ancestors^  most 
favoured  residence.  With  a road  through  to  the  town 
of  Liverpool,  this  lovely  spot  will  one  day,  ere  long, 
become  a thriving  settlement.  I would  desire  no  more 
romantic  retreat  were  I to  become  a settler  ; but  always 
bear  in  mind  the  lesson  inculcated  for  all  intending  mili- 
tary settlers  who  may  be  carried  away  by  their  enthu- 
siasm for  the  picturesque  scenery  of  the  summer  and  fall 
in  Nova  Scotia,  to  try  their  luck  away  back  from  civili- 
zation, in  the  well-told  and  pathetic  story  of  ‘ Cucumber 
Lake,' by  Judge  Haliburton.  To-day  Glode  and  I walked 
back  from  the  lake  about  three  miles,  through  thick 
woods,  to  see  a beaver-house  on  a brook  of  which  he 
knew.  We  found  it  without  difficulty,  as  the  grass  and 
fern  for  some  distance  below  was  much  trodden  down, 
and  proceeded  to  make  a careful  investigation  of  its 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


177 


structure.  Its  site  was  a dismal  one.  The  surrounding 
forest  had  been  burnt  ages  since,  for  there  was  no  char- 
coal left  on  the  stems,  which  were  bleached  and  hard  as 
adamant.  A few  alders,  swamp  maples,  and  briers 
fringed  the  brook,  the  banks  of  which  were  overgrown 
with  tall  grass,  flags,  and  royal  fern.  Moose  had  re- 
cently passed  through,  browsing  on  the  juicy  stems  of 
the  red  maples.  It  was  a large  house  ; its  diameter  at 
the  water  line  nearly  eighteen  feet,  and  it  was  nearly 
five  feet  in  height.  On  the  outside  the  sticks  were 
thrown  somewhat  loosely,  but,  as  we  unpiled  them  and 
examined  the  structure  more  closely,  the  work  appeared 
better,  the  boughs  laid  more  horizontally,  and  firmly 
bound  in  with  mud  and  grass.  About  two  feet  from  the 
top  we  unroofed  the  chamber,  and  presently  disclosed  the 
interior  arrangements. 

The  chamber — there  was  but  one — was  very  low, 
scarcely  two  feet  in  height,  though  about  nine  feet  in 
diameter.  It  had  a gentle  slope  upwards  from  the  water, 
the  margin  of  which  could  be  just  seen  at  the  edge. 
There  were  two  levels  inside,  one,  which  we  will  term 
the  hall,  a sloping  mudbank  on  which  the  animal  emerges 
from  the  subaqueous  tunnel  and  shakes  himself,  and  the 
other  an  elevated  bed  of  boughs  ranged  round  the  back 
of  the  chamber,  and  much  in  the  style  of  a guard-bed — 
i.e.,  the  sloping  wooden  trestle  usually  found  in  a military 
guard-room.  The  couch  was  comfortably  covered  with 
lengths  of  dried  grass  and  rasped  fibres  of  wood,  similar 
to  the  shavings  of  a toy-broom.  The  ends  of  the  timbers 
and  brushwood,  which  projected  inwards,  were  smoothly 
gnawed  off  all  round.  There  were  two  entrances — the 
one  led  into  the  water  at  the  edge  of  the  chamber  and 


N 


178 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


let  in  the  light,  the  other  went  down  at  a deeper  angle 
into  black  water.  The  former  was  evidently  the  summer 
entrance,  the  latter  being  used  in  winter  to  avoid  the 
ice.  The  interior  was  perfectly  clean,  no  barked  sticks 
(the  refuse  of  the  food)  being  left  about.  These  were  all 
distributed  on  the  exterior,  a fact  which  accounts  for  the 
bleached  appearance  of  many  houses  we  have  seen.  In 
turning  over  the  materials  of  the  house,  I picked  up 
several  pieces  of  wood  of  but  two  or  three  inches  in 
length,  which  from  their  shortness  puzzled  me  as  to  the 
wherefore  of  so  much  trouble  being  taken  by  the  beaver 
for  so  (apparently)  small  a purpose.  My  Indian,  how- 
ever, enlightened  me.  The  side  on  which  a young  tree 
is  intended  to  fall  is  cut  through,  say  two-thirds,  the 
other  side  one-third,  and  a little  above.  The  tree  slips 
off  the  stem,  but  will  not  fall  prostrate,  owing  to  the 
intervention  of  branches  of  adjacent  trees.  So  the  beaver 
has  to  gnaw  a little  above  to  start  it  again,  exactly  on 
the  plan  adopted  by  the  lumberer  in  case  of  a catch 
amongst  the  upper  branches,  when  the  impetus  of  another 
slip  disengages  the  whole  tree.  The  occupants  of  the 
house  were  out  for  the  day,  as  they  generally  are 
throughout  the  summer,  being  engaged  in  travelling  up 
and  down  the  brooks,  and  cutting  provisions  for  the 
winter  s consumption.  Eeturning  to  camp  by  another 
route  throuo^h  the  woods,  we  had  to  cross  a laro^e  wild 
meadow  now  inundated  — a most  disagreeable  walk 
through  long  grass,  the  water  reaching  above  the  knees. 
At  the  foot,  where  Glode  said  a little  sluggish  brook  ran 
out,  we  found  a beaver-dam  in  process  of  construction — 
the  work  quite  fresh,  and  ac(;ounting  for  the  inundation 
of  tlie  meadow  above.” 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


179 


‘'September  5. 

“ Glode  and  I tried  creeping  moose,  back  in  the  woods, 
this  morning,  but  without  success.  No  wind  and  an 
execrable  country ; all  windfalls  and  thick  woods,  or  else 
burnt  barrens.  Follow  fresh  tracks  of  an  enormous  bull, 
but  are  obliged  to  leave  them  for  want  of  a breeze  to 
cloak  our  somewhat  noisy  advance  amongst  the  tall 
huckleberry  bushes.  Indians  are  particularly  averse  to 
starting  game  when  there  is  no  chance  of  killing.  It 
scares  the  country  unnecessarily.  Disturb  a bear  revel- 
ling amongst  the  berries,  and  hear  him  rush  off  in  a 
thick  swamp.  Lots  of  bear  signs  everywhere  in  these 
woods.  In  the  evening  proceed  up  the  lake  with  one  of 
the  canoes.  The  water  calm,  and  a most  lovely  sunset. 
Passing  a dark  grove  of  hemlocks,  we  hear  two  young 
bears  calling  to  one  another  with  a sort  of  plaintive  moan. 
The  old  ones  seldom  cry  out,  being  too  knowing  and 
ever  on  the  watch.  At  the  head  of  a grassy  cove  stood 
a large  beaver-house  ; and,  as  it  was  now  the  time  of  day 
for  the  animals  to  swim  round  and  feed  amongst  the 
yellow  water-lilies,  we  concealed  ourselves  and  canoe 
amongst  the  tall  grass  for  the  purpose  of  watching. 
But  for  the  mosquitoes,  which  attacked  us  fiercely, 
it  was  a most  enjoyable  evening.  The  gorgeous  sunset 
reflected  in  the  lake  vied  with  the  shadows  of  the  crim- 
son maples ; and  every  bank  of  woods  opposed  to  the 
sun  was  suffused  with  a rich  orange  hue.  The  still  air 
bore  to  our  ears  the  sound  of  a fall  into  the  lake,  some 
three  miles  away,  as  if  it  were  close  by,  and  the  cry  of 
the  loon  resounded  in  every  direction.  Wood-ducks  and 
black  ducks  flew  past  in  abundance,  and  within  easy 
range  of  our  hidden  guns  ; and  long  diverging  trails  in  the 


180 


FOKEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


mirror-like  surface  showed  the  passage  of  otter  or  musk- 
rats over  the  lake.  Presently  the  water  broke  some  sixty 
yards  from  us,  and  the  head  and  back  of  a beaver 
showed  above  the  surface,  whilst  another  appeared  almost 
simultaneously  farther  off.  After  a cautious  glance 
around,  the  animal  dived  again  with  a roll  like  that 
of  a porpoise,  reappearing  in  a few  minutes.  He  was 
feeding  on  the  roots  of  the  yellow  lilies  (Nuphar  advena). 
Probably  three  minutes  elapsed  during  each  visit  to  the 
bottom.  Taking  advantage  of  one  of  these  intervals, 
the  Indians  pushed  the  canoe  from  the  concealment 
of  the  grass,  and  with  a few  noiseless  yet  vigorous 
strokes  of  the  paddle  made  towards  the  spot  where  we 
supposed  the  animal  would  rise.  As  theliead  reappeared, 
we  let  fly  with  the  rifle,  but  missed  the  game,  the  report 
echoing  from  island  to  island,  and  evoking  most  discordant 
yells  from  the  loons  far  and  near.  Of  course  we  had 
seen  all  that  was  to  be  seen  of  the  animals  for  the 
night ; ‘ and  so,’  as  Mr.  Pepys  would  say,  ^ disconsolate 
back  to  camp.’  ” 

During  the  excursion  we  had  opportunities  of  examining 
many  beaver-houses,  placed  in  every  variety  of  situation 
— by  the  lake  shore,  by  the  edge  of  sluggish  “ still 
waters,”  on  the  little  forest  brook,  or  on  the  brink  of 
the  rapid  river.  They  all  presented  a similar  appear- 
ance— equally  rough  externally,  and  all  similarly  con- 
structed inside.  Neither  could  we  observe  anything 
like  a colony  of  beavers,  their  houses  grouped  in  close 
proximity,  as  so  frequently  noticed  by  travellers.  The 
beaver  of  Eastern  America  appears,  indeed,  quite  un- 
sociable in  comparison  with  his  brethren  of  the  West. 
We  saw  none  but  isolated  dwellings  either  on  lake  or 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


181 


river-shore,  and  these  placed  at  several  hundred  yards 
apart  from  each  other. 

With  respect  to  the  number  of  animals  living  together 
in  the  same  house,  our  Indians,  who  had  lived  in  this 
neighbourhood  and  hunted  beaver  from  their  youth, 
corroborated  the  fact,  often  stated  by  naturalists,  of 
three  generations  living  together — the  old  pair,  the  last 
progeny,  and  the  next  eldest  (they  generally  have  two 
at  a birth)  ; the  latter  leaving  every  summer  to  set  up 
for  themselves. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  the  beavers  were  returning 
from  the  summer  excursions  u]3  and  down  the  rivers,  and 
setting  to  work  to  repair  damages  both  to  houses  and 
dams.  This  work  is  invariably  carried  on  during  the  night ; 
and  the  following  is  the  modus  operandi : — Repairing 
to  the  thickets  and  groves  skirting  the  lake,  the  beaver, 
squatting  on  his  hams,  rapidly  gnaws  through  the  stems 
of  trees  of  six  or  even  twelve  inches  diameter,  with  its 
powerful  incisors.  These  are  again  divided,  and  dragged 
away  to  the  house  or  dam.  The  beaver  now  plunges  into 
the  water,  and  brings  up  the  mud  and  small  stones  from 
the  bottom  to  the  work  in  progress,  carrying  them  closely 
under  the  chin  in  its  fore  paws.  The  vulgar  opinion  that 
the  broad  tail  of  the  beaver  was  used  to  j)laster  down  the 
mud  in  its  work,  has  long  since  been  pronounced  as  erro- 
neous. Its  real  use  is  evidently  to  counterpoise,  by  an 
action  against  the  water  in  an  upward  direction,  the 
tendency  to  sink  head  foremost  (which  the  animal  would 
otherwise  have)  when  propelling  itself  through  the  water 
by  its  powerful  and  webbed  hind  feet,  and  at  the  same 
time  supporting  the  load  of  mud  or  stones  in  its  fore 
paws  under  the  chin.  Our  Indians  laughed  at  the  idea 


182 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  the  trowel  story.  That,  and  the  assertion  that  the 
tail  is  likeAvise  used  as  a vehicle  for  materials,  may  be 
considered  as  exploded  notions. 

The  food  of  the  beaver  consists  of  the  bark  of  several 
varieties  of  willow,  of  poplar,  and  birch ; they  also  feed 
constantly  during  summer  on  the  roots  and  tendrils  of 
the  yellow  pond  lily  (Nuphar  advena).  They  feed  in  the 
evening  and  throughout  the  night.  For  winter  supplies 
the  saplings  of  the  above-mentioned  trees  are  cut  into 
lengths  of  two  or  three  feet,  and  planted  in  the  mud 
outside  the  house.  Lengths  are  brought  in  and  the  bark 
devoured  in  the  hall,  never  on  the  couch,  and  when 
peeled,  the  sticks  are  towed  outside  and  used  in  the  spring 
to  repair  the  house. 

The  house  is  approached  from  the  water  by  long 
trenches,  hollowed  out  - to  a considerable  depth  in  the 
bottom  of  the  lake  or  brook.  In  these  are  piled  their 
winter  stock  of  food,  short  lengths  of  wdllow  and  poplar, 
w^hich,  if  left  sticking  in  the  mud  at  the  ordinary  level  of 
the  bottom  below  the  surface,  would  become  impacted  in 
the  ice.  The  beaver  travels  a long  distance  from  his 
house  in  search  of  materials,  both  for  building  and  food. 
I saw  the  stumps  of  small  trees,  which  had  been  felled  at 
least  three-quarters  of  a mile  from  the  house.  Their 
towing  power  in  the  water,  and  that  of  traction  on  dry 
land,  is  astonishing.  The  following  is  rather  a good 
story  of  their  coolness  and  enterprise,  told  me  by  a friend, 
who  was  a witness  to  the  fact.  It  occurred  at  a little 
lake  near  the  head  waters  of  Roseway  river.  Having 
constructed  a raft  for  the  purpose  of  poling  rouud  the 
edge  of  the  lake,  to  get  at  the  houses  of  the  beaver,  which 
were  built  in  a swampy  savannali  otherwise  inaccessible. 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


183 


it  had  been  left  in  the  evening  moored  at  the  edge  of  the 
lake  nearest  the  camps,  and  about  a quarter  of  a mile 
from  the  nearest  beaver  house,  the  poles  lying  on  it. 
Next  morning,  on  going  down  to  the  raft  the  poles  were 
missing,  so,  cutting  fresh  ones,  he  started  with  the  Indians 
towards  the  houses.  There,  to  his  astonishment,  was  one 
of  the  poles,  coolly  deposited  on  the  top  of  a house. 

Besides  the  house,  the  beaver  has  another  place  of 
residence  in  the  summer,  and  of  retreat  in  the  winter, 
should  his  house  be  broken  into.  In  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  house  long  burrows,  broad  enough  for  the  beaver 
to  turn  in  with  ease,  extend  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  in 
the  bank,  and  have  their  entrance  at  a considerable  depth 
below  the  surface  of  the  water.  To  these  they  invariably 
fly  when  surprised  in  their  houses. 

One  of  the  principal  causes  which  have  so  nearly  led 
to  the  extermination  of  the  beaver,  was  the  former  demand 
for  the  castoreum,  and  the  discovery  that  it  could  be  used 
as  an  unfailing  bait  for  the  animal  itself  This  substance 
is  contained  in  two  small  sacs  near  the  root  of  the 
tail,  and  is  of  an  orange  colour.  Now  seldom  em- 
ployed in  pharmacology  for  its  medicinal  properties 
(stimulant  and  anti-spasmodic),  being  superseded  by 
more  modern  discoveries,  it  is  still  used  in  trapping  the 
animal,  as  the  most  certain  bait  in  existence."^'  It  is  said 

• Erman  thus  notices  it  in  his  Siberian  travels  : — “ There  is  hardly  any 
drug  which  recommends  itself  to  man  so  powerfully  by  its  impression  on 
the  external  senses  as  this.  The  Ostyaks  were  acquainted  with  its  virtues 
from  the  earliest  times  ; and  it  was  related  liere  (Obdorsk)  that  they  keep  a 
supply  of  it  in  every  yurt,  that  the  women  may  recover  their  strength  more 
quickly  after  child-birth.  In  like  manner  the  Kosaks  and  Russian  traders 
have  exalted  the  beaver-stone  into  a panacea. 

“To  the  sentence  ‘God  arose,  and  our  enemies  were  scattered,’  the  Sibe- 
rians add,  very  characteristically,  the  apocryphal  interpolation,  ‘and  we  are 
free  from  head-ache.’  To  ensure  this  most  desirable  condition,  every  one 


184 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


to  be  likewise  efficacious  in  trapping  tbe  wild  cat,  which 
is  excessively  fond  of  the  odour.  Mr.  Thompson,  a 
Canadian  writer,  thus  speaks  of  it : — “ A few  years  ago 
the  Indians  of  Canada  and  New  Brunswick,  on  seeing 
the  steel  trap  so  successful  in  catching  foxes  and  other 
animals,  thought  of  applying  it  to  the  beaver,  instead  of 
the  awkward  wooden  traps  they  made,  which  often  failed. 
At  first  they  were  set  in  the  landing  paths  of  the  beaver, 
with  about  four  inches  of  water  over  them,  and  a piece 
of  green  aspen  for  a bait,  that  would  aUure  it  to 
the  trap.  Various  things  and  mixtures  of  ingredients 
were  tried  without  success ; but  chance  made  some  try  if 
the  male  could  not  be  caught  by  adding  the  castoreum, 
beat  up  with  the  green  buds  of  the  aspen.  A piece  of 
willow  about  eight  inches  in  length,  beat  and  bruised 
fine,  was  dipped  in  this  mixture.  It  was  placed  at  the 
water  edge  about  a foot  from  the  steel  trap,  so  that  the 
beaver  should  pass  direct  over  it  and  be  caught.  This 
trap  proved  successful ; but,  to  the  surprise  of  the  Indians, 
the  females  were  caught  as  well  as  the  males.  The  secret 
of  this  bait  was  soon  spread  ; every  Indian  procined  from 
the  trader  four  to  six  steel  traps  ; all  labour  was  now  at  an 
end,  and  the  hunter  moved  about  with  pleasure,  with  his 
traps  and  infallible  bait  of  castoreum.  Of  the  infatuation 
of  this  animal  for  castoreum  I saw  several  instances.  A 
trap  was  neghgently  fastened  by  its  small  chain  to  the 
stake,  to  prevent  the  beaver  taking  away  the  trap  when 
caught ; it  slipped,  and  the  beaver  swam  away  with  the 
trap,  and  it  was  looked  upon  as  lost.  Two  nights  after 


has  recourse,  at  liome  or  on  his  travels,  and  vdth  the  firmest  faith,  to  two 
medicines,  and  only  two,  viz.,  beaver-stone,  or  beaver  efflux  as  it  is  here 
called,  and  sal-ammoniac.” 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


185 


he  was  taken  in  a trap,  with  the  other  trap  fast  on  his 
thigh.  Another  time  a beaver,  passing  over  a trap  to  get 
the  castoreum,  had  his  hind  leg  broken ; with  his  teeth 
he  cut  the  broken  leg  off,  and  went  away.  We  concluded 
that  he  would  not  come  again  ; but  two  nights  afterwards 
he  was  found  fast  in  a trap,  in  every  case  tempted  by  the 
castoreum.  The  stick  was  always  licked  or  sucked  clean, 
and  it  seemed  to  act  as  a soporific,  as  they  always  re- 
mained more  than  a day  without  coming  out  of  their 
houses.’' 

And  yet  the  beaver  is  an  exceedingly  wary  animal, 
possessing  the  keenest  sense  of  smell.  In  setting  the 
large  iron  traps,  without  teeth,  which  are  generally  used 
in  Nova  Scotia,  and  placed  in  the  paths  leading  from  the 
house  to  the  grove  where  he  feeds,  so  careful  must  be  the 
hunter  not  to  leave  his  scent  on  the  spot,  that  he  gene- 
rally cuts  down  a tree  and  walks  on  its  branches  towards 
the  edge  of  the  path,  afterwards  withdrawing  it,  and 
plentifully  sprinkling  water  around.  • 

The  presence  of  the  beaver  in  his  snow-covered  house 
is  readily  detected  by  the  hunter  in  winter  by  the  appear- 
ance (if  the  dwelling  is  tenanted)  of  what  is  called  the 
“ smoke  hole,”  a funnel-shaped  passage  formed  by  the 
warm  vapour  ascending  from  the  animals  beneath. 

With  regard  to  specific  distinction  of  the  beavers  of 
America,  Europe,  and  Asia,  the  remarks  of  Professor 
Baird,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute,  in  his  report  of  the 
mammals  of  the  Pacific  railroad  routes,  summing  up  the 
evidence  of  naturalists  on  the  comparative  anatomy  of 
the  Castors  of  the  Old  and  New  Worlds,  appear  worthy  of 
note  as  establishing  a satisfactory  result. 

The  question  has  been  elaborately  discussed,  and  the 


186 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


results  of  many  comparisons  show  considerable  difference 
of  arrangement  of  bones  of  the  skull,  a slight  difference 
as  regards  size  and  colour,  and  an  important  one  as 
regards  both  the  form  of  the  castoreum  glands,  and  the 
composition  of  the  castoreum  itself.  Professor  Owen, 
Bach,  and  others  agreeing  on  a separation  of  species.^ 
Hence,  instead  of  being  termed  Castor  Fiber  (Yar.  Ameri- 
canus),  the  American  Beaver  now,  (and  but  recently), 
is  designated  as  Castor  Canadensis,  so  termed  rather  than 
C.  Americanus,  from  the  prior  nomenclature  of  Kuhl. 

THE  MUSK  EAT  (Fiber  Zibethicus  of  Cuvier)  is  so 
like  a miniature  beaver,  both  in  conformation  and  habit, 
that  Linnaeus  was  induced  to  class  it  amongst  the  Castors. 
Like  that  of  the  latter  animal  its  tail  is  flattened,  though 
vertically  and  to  a much  less  extent,  and  is  proportionally 
longer.  It  is  oar-shaped,  whilst  the  form  of  the  beaver’s 
tail  has  been  aptly  compared  to  the  tongue  of  a mammal. 
Both  animals  have  the  same  lon^  and  lustrous  brown-red 
hair,  with  a thick  undercoat  of  soft,  downy  fur,  which,  in 
the  musk  rat,  is  of  a blueish  gray  or  ashes  colour,  in  the 
beaver  ferruginous.  The  little  sedge-built  water  hut  of 
the  rat  is  similarly  constructed  to  the  beaver’s  dome 
of  barked  sticks  and  brushwood,  and  both  have  burrows 
in  the  banks  of  the  river  side  as  summer  resorts. 

The  range  of  the  musk  rat  throughout  North  America 
is  co-extensive  with  the  distribution  of  the  beaver,  and  it 

* Dr.  Brandt,  wlio  has  Avritten  a most  elaborate  exposition  on  tlie  differ- 
ences of  the  beavers  of  the  Old  and  New  Worlds,  states  the  castoreimi-bag 
of  the  American  to  be  more  elongated  and  thinner  skinned  than  that  of  the 
European  ; and  that  in  the  secretion  of  the  latter  species  there  is  a much 
larger  proportion  of  etherial  oil,  castorine,  and  castoreum-resinoid. — Vide 
Baird’s  Mammals  of  Pacific  Route. 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


187 


still  continues  plentiful  in  Eastern  America  in  spite  of 
the  immense  numbers  of  skins  exported  every  year.  The 
Indians  are  ever  on  the  look-out  for  them  on  the  banks 
of  the  alluvial  rivers  entering  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  in  which 
they  especially  abound,  and  in  every  settler  s barn  may  be 
seen  their  jackets  expanded  to  dry. 

Their  little  flattened  oval  nests,  composed  of  bents 
and  sedges,  are  of  frequent  occurrence  by  lake  margins  ; 
and  very  shallo  w grassy  ponds  are  sometimes  seen  dotted 
with  them  quite  thickly.  On  the  muddy  banks  of  rivers 
their  holes  are  as  numerous  as  those  of  the  European 
water-rat,  the  entrance  just  under  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  generally  marked  by  a profusion  of  the  shells 
of  the  fresh-water  mussel.  They  are  vegetable  feeders, 
with,  I believe,  this  solitary  exception,  though  I am  sorry 
to  have  to  record,  from  my  own  experience,  that  can- 
nibalism is  a not  unfrequent  trait  when  in  confinement. 

To  the  canoe- voyageur,  or  the  fisherman  on  the  forest- 
lakes,  the  appearance  of  the  musk  rat,  sailing  round  in 
the  calm  water  on  the  approach  of  sunset,  when  in  fine 
summer  weather  the  balmy  west  wind  almost  invariably 
dies  away  and  leaves  the  surface  with  faithful  reflections 
of  the  beautiful  marginal  foliage  of  the  woods,  is  one  of 
the  most  familiar  and  pleasing  sights  of  nature.  Coming 
forth  from  their  home  in  some  shady,  lily-bearing  cove, 
they  gambol  round  in  the  open  lake  in  widening  circles, 
apparently  fearless  of  the  passing  canoe,  now  and  then 
diving  below  the  surface  for  a few  seconds,  and  re- 
appearing with  that  grace  and  freedom  from  splash,  on 
leaving  and  regaining  the  surface,  which  characterise  the 
movements  both  of  this  animal  and  of  the  beaver. 

Travelling  down  the  Shubenacadie  and  other  gently- 


188 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


running  forest-streams  in  day-time,  I have  often  seen 
them  crossing  and  re-crossing  the  surface  in  the  quiet 
reaches  through  dark  overhanging  woods,  carrying  in 
their  mouths  pieces  of  bracken,  probably  to  feed  on  the 
stem,  though  it  seemed  as  if  to  shade  themselves  from 
the  sunbeams  glancing  through  the  foliage. 

The  Micmac  calls  this  little  animal  “ Kewesoo,’^  and  is 
not  impartial  to  its  flesh,  which  is  delicate,  and  not  unlike 
that  of  rabbit. 

I have  heard  of  a worthy  Catholic  priest  who  most 
conveniently  adopted  the  belief  that  both  beaver  and 
musk  rat  were  more  of  a fishy  than  a fleshy  nature,  and 
thus  mitigated  the  rigours  of  a fast-day  in  the  backwoods 
by  a roasted  beaver-tail  or  savoury  stew.  By  the  Indians 
of  Nova  Scotia  or  New  Brunswick  the  flesh  of  the  former 
animal  is  rarely  tasted,  but  to  the  wilder  hunters  of  New- 
foundland it  is  the  primest  of  forest  meats.  The  musk 
rat  will  readily  swim  up  to  the  call  of  the  hunter — a sort 
of  plaintive  squeak  made  by  chirping  with  the  lips  applied 
to  the  hollow  of  closed  hands. 

The  acclimatisation  of  both  these  rodents  in  England 
has  been  frequently  advocated  of  late.  In  the  case  of 
the  beaver,  which  in  historic  times  was  an  inhabitant  of 
Wales  and  Scotland,  according  to  Giraldus,  its  introduc- 
tion must  be  at  the  expense  of  modern  cultivation,  from 
its  tendency  to  destroy  surrounding  growths  of  young 
forest  trees,  and  to  make  ponds  and  swamps  of  lands 
already  drained.  The  musk  rat,  I am  inclined  to  think, 
in  concurrence  with  Mr.  Crichton’s  opinion,  would  prove 
a valuable  addition  to  the  bank  fauna  of  sluggish  English 
streams. 

I have  thus  classed  together  as  true  lake  dwellers  these 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


189 


two  first-cousins,  as  they  appear  to  be,  the  beaver  and 
the  musk  rat,'''"  yet,  as  the  heading  is  somewhat  fanciful, 
and  my  object  is  to  notice  the  water-frequenting  mam- 
malia of  the  woods,  I will  proceed  to  mention  other 
animals  which  prowl  round  the  margins  of  lakes  or 
brooks,  more  or  less  taking  to  the  water,  under  the  sub- 
divisional  title  of  dwellers  by  lake  shores.’' 

THE  OTTER  of  Eastern  America  (Lutra  Canadensis), 
(there  is  a distinct  species  found  on  the  Pacific  slope,) 
differs  from  the  European  animal  in  colour,  size,  and  con- 
formation. The  former  is  much  the  darkest  coloured,  a 
peculiarity  attached  to  many  North  American  mammals 
when  compared  with  their  Old-World  congeners.  It  is 
also  the  largest.  Taken  jper  se,  but  slight  importance 
would  attach  to  such  variations  ; and  it  is  on  the  grounds 
of  well-ascertained  osteological  differences  only  that  the 
separation  of  species  in  the  case  of  both  the  beaver  and 
the  otter  of  America  has  been  agreed  on. 

The  Canadian  otter  measures  from  nose  to  tip  of  tail, 
in  a large  specimen,  between  four  and  a-half  and  five  feet; 
its  colour  is  a dark  chestnut  brown  or  liver,  and  its  fur  is 
very  close  and  lustrous.  Under  the  throat  and  belly  it  is 
lighter,  approaching  to  tawny.  The  breeding  season  is  in 
February  and  early  March  (of  wild  cat  and  fox,  ibid),  and 
the  she  otter  brings  forth  in  May  a litter  of  three  or  four 
pups.  The  clear  whistle  of  the  otter  is  a very  common 
sound  to  the  ear  of  the  occupant  of  a fishing  camp,  and 
the  Indians  frequently  eall  them  up  by  successful  imita- 
tion of  their  note.  The  skin  is  valuable  and  much  sought 

* Tlie  musk-rat  is  often  found  as  an  occupant  of  an  old  beaver-liouse 
deserted  by  tlie  latter  animal. 


190 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


after  in  the  manufacture  of  muffs,  trimmings,  and  espe- 
cially of  the  tall  ornamental  fur  caps  generally  worn  as 
part  of  the  winter  costume  in  Canada.  The  price  of  the 
skin  varies  according  to  season,  good  ones  bringing  from 
four  to  six  dollars  each. 

They  are  most  frequently  taken  in  winter  by  traps — 
dead-falls  placed  over  little  forest  brooks  trickling  be- 
tween lakes,  and  steel-traps  submerged  at  a hand’s 
depth  close  to  the  bank,  where  they  come  out  from 
under  the  ice  to  their  paths  and  “ rubs.”  These  re- 
sorts are  readily  detected  by  the  tracks  and  stains  on 
the  snow,  and  the  smooth,  shining  appearance  of  the 
frozen  bank  where  they  indulge  in  their  curious  amuse- 
ment of  sliding  down,  after  the  manner  of  the  pas- 
time termed  in  Canada  trebogining.”  Even  in  con- 
finement the  animal  is  full  of  sport,  and  gambols 
like  a kitten.  The  term  ‘‘  otter-rub  ” is  applied  to  the 
place  where  they  enter  and  leave  the  water,  from 
their  habit  of  rubbing  themselves,  like  a dog,  against  a 
stump  or  root  on  emerging  from  the  water.  The 
otter  is  a very  wary  animal,  and  I have  rarely  come 
upon  and  shot  them  unawares,  though  in  cruising  up  and 
down  runs  in  a canoe  in  spring  I have  often  seen  their 
victims,  generally  a goodly  trout,  deserted  on  hearing  the 
dip  of  our  paddles,  and  still  floundering  on  the  ice.  Fresh- 
water fish,  including  trout,  perch,  eels  and  suckers,  form 
their  usual  food ; they  will  also  eat  frogs.  They  have 
paths  through  the  woods  from  lake  to  lake,  often  ex- 
tending over  a very  considerable  distance,  and  the 
shortest  cuts  that  could  be  adopted — a regular  bee-line. 
Their  track  on  the  snow  is  most  singular.  After  a yard 
or  two  of  foot  impressions  there  comes  a long,  broad  trail. 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


191 


as  if  made  by  a cart-wheel,  where  the  animal  must  have 
thrown  itself  on  its  belly  and  slid  along  the  surface  for 
several  yards. 

THE  FISHER,  Black  Cat,  or  Pecan  (Mustela  Pen- 
nantii),  the  largest  of  the  tree  martens,  a somewhat 
fox-like  weasel,  which  lives  almost  constantly  in  trees, 
is  another  dweller  by  lake  shores,  though  not  in  the 
least  aquatic  in  its  habits,  and,  not  being  piscivorous, 
quite  unentitled  to  the  name  first  given.  Its  general 
colour  is  dark  brown  with  uncertain  shades,  a dorsal 
line  of  black,  shining  hair  reaching  from  the  neck  to  the 
extremity  of  the  tail.  The  hair  underneath  is  lighter, 
with  several  patches  of  white.  The  eye  is  very  large, 
full  and  expressive. 

The  skin  possesses  about  the  same  value  as  that  of  the 
otter.  Squirrels,  birds  and  their  eggs,  rabbits  and  grouse, 
contribute  to  its  support.  The  Indians  all  agree  as  to  its 
alleged  habit  of  attacking  and  killing  the  porcupine. 
“ The  Old  Hunter  ” informs  me  that  ‘‘  it  is  a well-known 
fact  that  the  fisher  has  been  often — very  often — trapped 
with  its  skin  and  flesh  so  filled  with  quills  of  this  animal 
that  it  has  been  next  to  an  impossibility  to  remove  the 
felt  from  the  carcass.  In  my  wanderings  in  the  woods  in 
winter  time,  I have  three  times  seen,  where  they  have 
killed  porcupine,  nothing  but  blood,  mess,  and  quills, 
denoting  that  Mr.  F.  had  partaken  of  his  victim's  flesh.  I 
searched,  but  could  not  find  any  place  where  portions  of 
the  animal  might  have  been  hidden ; this  would  have 
been  a circumstance  of  course  easy  to  ascertain  on  the 
snow.  Now  what  could  have  become  of  that  for- 
midable fighting  tail  and  the  bones  ? I know  that  a 


192 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


small  dog  can  neither  crack  the  latter,  nor  those  of 
the  beaver.” 

Mr.  Andrew  Downs,  the  well-known  Nova  Scotian 
practical  naturalist,  says  he  has  often  found  porcu- 
pine-quills in  the  fisher’s  stomach  on  skinning  the 
animal. 

The  fisher  is  becoming  rare  in  the  forests  of  Acadie. 
According  to  Dr.  Gilpin,  a hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hun- 
dred is  the  usual  annual  yield  of  skins  in  Nova  Scotia, 
and  these  chiefly  come  from  the  Cobequid  range  of  hills 
in  Cumberland. 

The  length  of  the  animal,  tail  included,  is  from  forty 
to  fifty  inches,  of  which  the  tail  would  be  about 
eighteen. 

THE  i\IINK  (Putorius  vison.  And.  and  Bach.)  is  much 
more  a water-side  frequenter  than  the  last  described 
animal,  and  indeed  is  quite  aquatic  in  its  habits,  being 
constantly  seen  swimming  in  lakes  like  the  otter,  which 
it  somewhat  resembles  in  its  taste  for  fish  and  frogs. 
The  mink  has,  moreover,  a strong  propensity  to  maraud 
poultry  yards,  and  is  trapped  by  the  settler,  not  only  in 
self-defence,  but  also  on  account  of  the  two,  three,  or 
even  five  dollars  obtainable  for  a good  skin.  The  general 
colour  is  dark,  reddish-brown,  and  the  fur  is  much  used 
for  caps,  boas  and  muffs.  It  is  a rich  and  beautiful  fur, 
finer  though  shorter  than  that  of  the  marten. 

The  droppings  of  the  mink  may  be  seen  on  almost 
every  flat  rock  in  the  forest  brook,  and  where  their  runs 
approach  the  water’s  edge,  perhaps  leading  through  a gap 
between  thickly-growing  fir  stems,  are  placed  the  nume- 
rous traps  devised  to  secure  the  prize  by  settlers  and 


LAKE  DWELLERS. 


193 


Indians.  Fish,  flesh,  or  fowl  alike  may  form  the  bait ; 
a piece  of  gaspereau,  or  the  liver  of  a rabbit  or  porcupine, 
is  very  enticing.  With  its  half- webbed  feet  and  aquatic 
habits,  the  American  mink  appears  to  have  a well-marked 
European  representative  in  the  lutreola  of  Finland. 


o 


CHAPTEE  VIIL 


CAVE  LODGERS. 

THE  BLACK  BEAE. 

(Ursus  Americanus,  Pallas.) 

This  species  has  a most  extensive  range  in  North 
America,  is  common  in  all  wooded  districts  from  the 
mouths  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  shores  of  Hudson’s 
Bay,  from  the  Labrador,  Newfoundland,  and  the  islands 
of  the  Gulf,  to  Vancouver,  and  is  found  wherever 
northern  fir-thickets  or  the  tangled  cane-brakes  of  more 
southern  re2[ions  offer  him  a retreat. 

In  the  Eastern  woodlands  the  black  bear  (here  the 
sole  representative  of  his  genus)  is  the  only  large  wild 
animal  that  becomes  offensive  when  numerous,  as  he  is 
still  in  all  the  Lower  Provinces.  He  is  a continual  source 
of  anxious  dread  to  the  settler,  whose  cattle,  obliged  to 
wander  into  the  woods  to  seek  provender,  often  meet 
their  fate  at  the  hands  of  this  lawless  freebooter,  who 
will  also  burglariously  break  into  the  settler  s barn,  and, 
abstracting  sheep  and  small  cattle,  drag  them  off  into 
the  neighbouring  woods.  And  he  is  such  an  exceed- 
ingly cunning,  wide-awake  beast  that  it  is  very  seldom 
he  can  be  pursued  and  destroyed  by  the  bullet,  or 
deluded  into  the  trap  or  snare  ; and  hence  he  is  not 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


195 


SO  often  killed  as  his  numbers  and  bad  character  might 
warrant. 

Compared  with  the  U.  Arctos — the  common  brown 
bear  of  Europe — the  black  bear  shows  many  well-marked 
distinctions,  the  grizzly  (U.  horribilis)  claiming  a much 
closer  relationship  with  the  former.  Professor  Baird 
points,  however,  to  important  dental  differences  between 
them ; and  considers  the  invariably  broader  skulls  of  the 
brown  bear  conclusive  as  to  identity.  Perhaps  the 
greater  size  of  the  grizzly  might  be  merely  regarded  as 
owing  to  geographical  variation ; but,  taken  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  above  and  other  osteological  differences, 
and  the  longer  claws  and  shorter  ears  of  the  American, 
we  can  only  regard  them  as  representative  species. 

The  black  bear  grows  to  some  six  feet  in  length  from 
the  muzzle  to  the  tail  (about  two  inches  long),  and 
stands  from  three  to  three  and  a half  feet  in  height  at 
the  shoulder.  The  general  colour  is  a glossy  black,  the 
sides  of  the  muzzle  pale  brown;  there  is  no  wool  at  the 
base  of  the  hair.  In  many  specimens  observed  in  Nova 
Scotia  I have  seen  great  differences  both  as  regards 
colour  of  the  skin  and  length  of  leg — even  in  breadth  of 
the  skulls.  Some  animals  are  brown  all  over,  others  glossy 
black,  and  wanting  the  cinnamon  patch  at  the  muzzle. 
There  are  long  and  low  bears,  whereas  others  have  short 
bodies  and  great  length  of  limb.  The  settlers,  of  course, 
as  they  do  in  the  case  of  other  animals,  insist  upon  two 
species : my  own  conclusion  is  that  the  species  is  very 
susceptible  of  variation.  They  have  a mythical  bear 
called  “ the  ranger,”  which  does  not  hybernate,  and  is 
known  by  length  of  limb,  and  a white  spot  on  the  breast. 
This  latter  peculiarity  I have  seen  in  several  skins,  but 


196 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


have  only  noticed  ti’acks  of  bears  on  the  snow  in  winter, 
when  a sudden  and  violent  rainstorm,  or  a prolonged 
thaw  has  flooded  their  den,  and  sent  them  forth  to  look 
for  fresh  shelter,  as  they  cannot  endure  a wet  bed  during 
hybernation. 

The  bear  is  very  particular  in  choosing  a comfortable 
dormitory  for  his  long  winter  s nap.  In  walking  through 
the  woods,  you  will  find  plenty  of  caves — likely  looking 
places  for  a bear’s  den — but  Bruin,”  or  rather  ‘‘Mooin,” 
as  the  Indians  call  him  (a  name  singularly  hke  his  Euro- 
pean sobriquet  in  sound)  would  not  condescend  to  use 
one  in  a hundred,  perhaps.  He  must  have  a nice  dry 
place,  so  arranged  that  the  snow  will  not  drift  in  on  his 
back,  or  water  trickle  through;  for  he  grumbles  terribly, 
when  aroused  from  his  lair  in  mid-winter,  either  by  the 
hunter’s  summons  or  unseasonable  weather.  And  then 
he  is  so  cautious — the  Indians  say  “ he  think  all  the  same 
as  a man  ” — that  he  will  not  go  into  it  if  there  are  any 
sticks  cut  in  the  vicinity  by  the  hands  of  man,  or 
any  recent  axe-blazings  on  the  neighbouring  trees. 
Another  thing  he  cannot  endure,  is  the  presence  of  the 
porcupine.  The  porcupine  (Erethizon  dorsatus)  lives  in 
rocky  places,  full  of  caves,  and  often  takes  possession  of 
large  roomy  dens,  which  poor  Mooin,  coming  up  rather 
in  a himy,  having  stopped  out  blueberry  picking  rather 
later  than  usual,  and  till  all  was  blue,  might  envy,  but 
would  not  share  on  any  account.  The  porcupine  is  not 
over-cleanly  in  his  habits,  besides  not  being  a very 
pleasant  bedfellow  apropos  of  his  quills;  but  to  which 
of  these  traits  the  bear  takes  objection  I cannot  say — 
perhaps  both.  The  quills  are  very  disagreeable  weapons, 
and  armed  with  a little  barbed  head;  when  they  pierce 


CAVE  LODGERS, 


]97 


the  skin  they  are  very  difficult  of  extraction,  and  a 
portion,  breaking  off  in  the  wound,  will  traverse  under 
the  surface,  reappearing  at  some  very  distant  point. 

Haviim  determined  on  his  winters  residence,  and 
cleaned  it  out  before  the  commencement  of  winter  (the 
extra  leaves  and  rubbish  scraped  out  around  the  entrance 
beino^  a sure  sffin  to  the  hunter  that  the  den  will  afford 
him  one  skin  at  least,  when  the  winter  s snow  shall  have 
well  covered  the  ground),  Mooin,  finding  it  very  difficult 
to  procure  a further  supply  of  food,  and  being,  moreover, 
in  a very  sleepy  frame  of  mind  and  body — fat  as  a prize 
pig  from  recent  excessive  gorging  on  the  numerous  berries 
of  the  barren,  or  mast  under  the  beech  woods — turns  in 
for  the  winter ; if  he  has  a partner,  so  much  the  better 
and  the  warmer.  He  lies  with  his  fore-arms  curled 
around  his  head  and  nose,  which  is  poked  in  under- 
neath the  chest.  Here  he  will  sleep  uninterruptedly 
till  the  warm  suns  late  in  March  influence  his  som- 
niferous feelings,  unless  his  sweet  mid-winter  repose 
be  cut  short  by  a sharp  poke  in  the  ribs  with  a pole, 
when  he  has  nothing  for  it  but  to  collect  his  almost 
lost  power  of  reflection,  and  crawl  out  of  his  den — ■ 
saluted,  as  he  appears,  by  a heavy  crushing  blow  over 
the  temples  with  the  back  of  an  axe,  and  a volley  of 
musket  balls  into  his  body  as  he  reels  forward,  which 
translates  him  into  a longer  and  far  different  state  of 
sleep. 

There  has  been  great  uncertainty  as  to  what  time  the 
female  brings  forth  her  young ; some  say  that  it  is  not 
until  she  leaves  her  winter  quarters  in  the  early  spring, 
and  that  though  the  she-bear  has  been  started  from  her 
den  in  winter,  and  two  little  shapeless  things  found  left 


19S 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


behind,  these  are  so  absurdly  small  as  to  appear  pre- 
mature. And  then  comes  the  old  story  of  the  little  ones 
being  produced  without  form,  and  afterwards  licked  into 
shape  in  the  den.  Even  the  Indians  possess  many  dif- 
ferent ideas  on  this  subject,  often  affirming  that  the  old 
bear  has  never  been  shot  and  discovered  to  be  with 
young.  Now  all  this  is  great  nonsense,  and  as  I know  of 
an  instance  in  which  a bear  was  shot,  a few  years  since, 
on  the  14th  of  February,  suckling  two  very  little  ones  in 
an  open  primitive  den,  formed  merely  by  a sheltering 
windfall,  and  also  have  consulted  the  testimony  of  tra- 
vellers on  the  habits  of  hybernating  bears  of  other 
descriptions,  capping  all  by  the  reliable  evidence  of  my 
old  Indian  hunter,  John  Williams,  I am  convinced  that 
the  following  is  the  true  state  of  the  case  : — The  she- 
bear  gives  bffith  to  two  cubs,  of  very  small  dimensions 
— not  much  larger  than  good-sized  rats — about  the 
middle  of  February,  in  the  den;  and  here  she  subsists 
them,  without  herself  obtaining  any  nourishment,  until 
the  thaws  in  March.  A few  years  ago  a cub  was  brought 
to  me  in  May  by  a settler,  who  had  shot  the  mother  and 
kidnapped  one  of  her  offspring;  it  was  a curious  little 
animal,  not  much  larger  than  a retriever  pup  of  a few 
weeks  old,  and  a strange  mixture  of  fun  and  ferocity. 
The  settler,  as  I handed  him  the  purchase  money — one 
dollar — informed  me  that  it  was  as  playful  as  a kitten  ; 
and,  having  placed  it  on  the  floor,  and  given  it  a basin  of 
bread  and  milk,  which  it  immediately  upset — biting  the 
saucer  with  its  teeth  as  though  it  suspected  it  of  trying 
to  withhold  or  participate  in  the  enjoyment  of  its  con- 
tents— it  commenced  to  evince  its  playful  disposition  by 
gambolling  about  the  room,  climbing  the  legs  of  tables, 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


199 


hauling  off  the  covers  with  superincumbent  ornaments, 
and  tearing  sofa  covers,  until  1 was  fain  to  end  the 
scene  by  securing  the  young  urchin.  But  I got  such 
a bite  through  my  trowsers  that  I never  again  admitted 
him  indoors.  I never  saw  such  a little  demon ; when 
fed  with  a bowl  of  Indian  meal  porridge,  he  would  bite 
the  rim  of  the  bowl  in  his  rage,  growling  frantically,  and 
.then  plunge  his  head  into  the  mixture,  the  groans  and 
growls  still  coming  up  in  bubbles  to  the  surface,  whilst 
he  swallowed  it  like  a starved  pig.  I afterwards  gave 
him  to  a brother  officer  going  to  England,  and  whether 
(as  is  the  usual  fate  of  bears  in  captivity)  he  after- 
wards killed  a child,  and  met  a felon’s  death,  I never 
heard. 

The  growth  of  bears  is  very  slow ; they  do  not  reach 
their  full  size  for  four  years  from  their  birth. 

On  entering  his  den  for  hybernation  the  bear  is  in 
prime  order;  the  fat  pervades  his  carcase  in  exactly  the 
same  manner  as  in  the  case  of  the  pig,  the  great  bulk  of 
it  lying,  as  in  the  flitch,  along  the  back  and  on  either 
side  ; this  generally  attains  a thickness  of  four  inches, 
though  in  domesticated  specimens,  fed  purposely  by  North 
American  hairdressers,  it  has  reached  a thickness  of  eight  • 
inches.  It  is  by  the  absorption  of  this  fat  throughout 
the  long  fast  of  four  months  that  the  bear  is  enabled  to 
exist.  Of  course  evaporation  is  almost  at  a stand-still, 
and  a plug,  called  by  the  Norwegians  the  “ tappen,”  is 
formed  in  the  rectum,  and  retained  until  the  spring. 
Should  this  be  lost  prematurely,  it  is  said  that  the  animal 
immediately  becomes  emaciated. 

A large  bear  at  the  end  of  the  fall  will  weigh  five  and 
even  six  hundred  pounds  ; this  has  been  increased  in 


200 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


domesticated  specimens  by  oatmeal  feeding  to  over  seven 
hundred. 

Having  aAVoke  at  last,  the  genial  warmth  of  a spring 
day  tempts  him  forth  to  try  and  find  something  to 
appease  the  growing  cravings  of  appetite.  What  is  the 
bill  of  fare  ? meagre  enough  generally,  for  the  snow  still 
covers  the  dead  timber  (where  he  might  find  colonies  of 
ants),  the  roots,  and  young  shoots  and  buds  ; but  he 
bethinks  himself  of  the  cranberries  in  the  open  bogs  from 
which,  unshaded  by  the  branches  of  the  dark  fir-forest, 
the  snow  has  disappeared,  disclosing  the  bright  crimson 
berries  still  clinging  to  their  tendrils  on  the  moss-clumps 
and  rendered  tender  and  luscious  by  the  winter  s frost. 
Even  the  rank  marsh-grass  forms  part  of  his  diet ; and,  as 
the  snow  disappears,  he  turns  over  the  fallen  timber  to 
look  for  such  insects  as  ants  or  wood-lice,  which  might 
be  sheltered  beneath.  Although  so  large  an  animal,  he 
will  seek  his  food  patiently ; and  the  prehensile  nature  of 
his  lips  enables  him  to  pick  up  the  smallest  insect  or 
forest  berry  with  great  dexterity.  The  runs  between  the 
forest  lakes  also  afford  him  early  and  profitable  spring 
fishing ; and  he  may  be  seen  lying  on  the  edge  of  the  ice, 
• fishing  for  smelts  (Osmerus),  which  delicate  little  fish 
abound  in  the  lakes,  near  their  junction  with  harbours, 
throughout  the  winter,  tipping  them  out  of  the  water  on 
to  the  ice  behind  him  in  a most  dexterous  manner  with 
his  paws.  Later  in  the  spring  he  continues  his  fishing  pro- 
pensities, and  makes  capital  hauls  when  the  gaspereaux, 
or  alewives  (Alosa  vernalis), — a description  of  herring — 
rush  up  the  forest  brooks  in  countless  multitudes,  carry- 
ing an  ample  source  of  food  to  the  doors  of  settlers  living 
by  the  banks  in  the  remotest  wilds.  Works  on  natural 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


201 


history  supply  abundant  evidence  of  his  general  confor- 
mation as  a member  of  the  plantigrade  family,  of  the 
adaptation  of  the  broad,  callous  soles  of  his  feet  for  walk- 
ing, sitting  on  his  haunches,  or  standing  erect,  and  of 
the  long  but  not  retractile  claws  fitted  for  digging,  by 
which  he  can  easily  ascend  a tree,  or  split  the  fallen 
rampike — like  a Samson  as  he  is — striking  them  into 
its  surface,  and  rending  it  in  twain,  in  search  of  ants ; 
and  what  a fearful  weapon  the  fore-hand  becomes,  armed 
with  these  terrible  claws,  when  they  are  sent  home  into 
the  flesh  of  an  enemy  or  intended  victim,  whenever  the 
rascal  takes  a notion  of  laying  aside  his  frugivorous 
propensities  to  satisfy  a thirst  for  stronger  meat  I 

Having  noticed  his  tastes  as  a herbivorous  and  pisci- 
vorous animal,  we  have  yet  to  mention  this,  in  which, 
though  it  has  been  but  slightly  implanted  in  him  by 
nature,  he  sometimes  indulges,  and  which,  once  indulged 
in,  becomes  a strong  habit,  and  stamps  him  as  being  also 
carnivorous.  Poor  Mooin  ! still  unsatisfied,  and  half- 
starved — perhaps  unsuccessful  in  his  spring-fishing,  or 
in  berrying — hears  the  distant  tinkling  of  cattle-bells 
as  the  animals  wander  through  the  woods  from  some 
neighbouring  settlement.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  come  ; 
and  he  advances  cautiously  to  meet  them,  keeping  a 
sharp  look-out  in  case  they  might  be  attended  by  a 
human  being,  of  whom  he  has  a most  wholesome  dread. 
By  a little  careful  manoeuvring  he  drives  them  into  a 
deep,  boggy  swamp  where  he  can  at  leisure  single  out 
his  victim,  and,  jumping  on  its  back,  deals  it  a few  such 
terrific  blows  across  the  back  and  shoulders,  that  the 
poor  animal  soon  succumbs,  and  falls  an  easy  prey. 
Stunned,  torn,  and  bemired,  it  is  then  dragged  back  to 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


l>02 

the  dry  slopes  of  the  woods  and  devoured.  The  settlers 
say  that  the  bear,  while  killing  his  victim  (which  moans 
and  bellows  piteously  all  the  while  he  is  beating  it  to 
death  in  the  swamp),  will  every  now  and  then  retire 
to  the  woods  behind  and  listen  for  any  approaching 
signs  of  rescue,  prior  to  returning  and  finishing  his 
work.  This  wicked  appetite  of  his  often  leads  to  his 
destruction ; for  a search  being  entailed  for  the  missing 
beast,  and  the  remains  found,  the  avenger,  on  the  follow- 
ing evening,  armed  with  a gun,  goes  out  to  waylay  the 
bear,  who  is  sure  to  revisit  the  carcase.  It  would  never 
do  to  remain  in  ambush  near  the  spot,  for  the  villain 
always  comes  back  on  the  watch,  planting  his  feet 
as  cautiously  as  an  Indian  creeping  on  moose,  with  all 
his  senses  on  the  qui  vive.  So  the  man,  finding  by  his 
track  in  which  direction  he  had  retreated  from  the  car- 
case, goes  back  into  the  woods  some  quarter  of  a mile  or 
so,  and  then  secretes  himself ; and  Mooin,  not  suspecting 
any  ambuscade  at  this  distance  from  the  scene  of  his 
recent  feasting,  comes  along  .towards  sundown,  hand  over 
hand,  and  probably  meets  his  just  fate.  Young  moose, 
too,  often  fall  victims  to  the  bear,  though  he  would 
never  succeed  in  an  attempt  on  the  life  of  a full-grown 
animal. 

The  bear  is  conscious  of  being  a villain,  and  will  never 
look  a man  in  the  face.  This  I have  observed  in  the 
case  of  tame  animals,  and  marked  the  change  of  expres- 
sion in  their  little  treacherous  black  eye)  about  the  size 
of  a small  marble)  just  before  they  were  about  to  do 
something  mischievous.  In  their  quickness  of  temper,  and 
in  the  suddenness  with  which  the  usually  perfectly  dull 
and  unmeaning  eye  is  lighted  up  with  the  most  wicked 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


203 


expression  imaginable,  immediately  followed  by  action, 
they  put  me  much  in  mind  of  some  of  the  monkey 
tribe. 

The  strength  of  the  bear  is  really  prodigious,  fully 
equal  to  that  of  ten  men,  as  was  once  proved  by  a tame 
bear  in  this  province  hauling  a barrel  which  had  been 
smeared  with  molasses,  and  contained  a little  oatmeal, 
away  from  the  united  efforts  of  the  number  of  men 
mentioned,  who  held  on  to  a rope  passed  round  the 
barrel.  The  bear  walked  away  with  it  as  easily  as  pos- 
sible. The  same  bear,  having  nearly  killed  a horse,  and 
scalped  a boy,  was  afterwards  destroyed  by  his  owner. 
The  way  he  tried  to  do  for  the  animal  was  curious 
enough;  he  approached  the  horse,  which  was  loose  in 
the  road,  from  behind ; on  its  attempting  to  kick,  the 
bear  caught  hold  of  its  hind  legs,  just  above  the  fetlocks, 
with  the  quickness  of  lightning  ; the  horse  tried  to  kick 
again,  and  the  bear,  with  the  greatest  apparent  ease, 
shoved  its  hind  legs  under  till  the  horse  was  fairly 
brought  on  its  haunches,  wdien  the  rascal  at  once  jumped 
on  its  back,  and,  with  one  tremendous  blow,  buried  its 
powerful  claws  into  the  muscle  of  the  shoulder,  and  the 
horse,  trembling  and  in  a profuse  perspiration,  rolled 
over  and  would  have  been  killed  if  the  affair  had  not 
been  witnessed  and  the  bear  at  this  juncture  driven 
away. 

I have  been  told  by  an  Indian  of  a scene  he  once  wit- 
nessed in  the  woods  when  resting  on  the  shore  of  a lake 
before  proceeding  across  a portage  with  his  canoe.  A 
crashing  of  ])ranches  proclaimed  the  rapid  advance  of  a 
large  animal  in  flight.  In  a few  moments  a fine  young 
moose,  about  half  grown,  dashed  from  the  forest  into  the 


204 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


lake,  carrying  a bear  on  its  shoulders,  and  at  once  struck 
out  into  deep  water.  The  two  were  soon  separated,  and 
the  Indian  at  the  same  time  launching  his  canoe,  succeeded 
in  wounding  the  bear,  which,  seeing  the  man,  had  turned 
back  for  the  shore.  The  moose  escaped  on  the  opposite 
side. 

In  the  spring  the  old  she  bear,  accompanied  by  her 
brace  of  little  whining  cubs,  is  almost  sure  to  turn  on  a 
human  being  if  suddenly  disturbed,  though,  if  made  aware 
of  coming  danger  in  time,  she  will  always  conduct  them 
out  of  the  way.  I have  known  many  instances  of  settlers, 
out  trouting  by  the  lakes  near  home,  being  chased  out  of 
the  woods  and  nearly  run  into,  by  the  she  bear  in  spring- 
time. 

In  June,  likewise,  in  the  running  season,  it  is  not  safe 
to  be  back  in  the  woods  unarmed  or  alone.  A whole 
gang  will  go  together,  making  the  forest  resound  with 
their  hideous  snarlino;  and  loud  moanino:  cries.  Hearinsf 
the  approach  of  such  a procession,  the  sojourner  in  camp 
piles  fuel  on  the  fire,  and  keeps  watch  with  loaded 
gun.  In  old  times,  before  they  acquired  the  dread  of 
fire-arms,  the  Indians  say  these  animals  were  much 
bolder. 

The  bear  is  readily  taken  in  a dead-faU  trap  with  a bait 
composed  of  almost  anything : a bundle  of  birch-bark 
tied  up,  and  smeared  over  with  a little  honey,  molasses, 
or  tallow,  answers  very  well. 

They  travel  through  the  woods  and  along  the  water- 
side in  well  defined  paths,  which  afibrd  excellent  walking 
to  the  hunter.  Bear-traps  are  placed  at  intervals  in  the 
vicinity  of  their  roads,  and  many  a rascal  loses  his  jacket 
to  the  settlers  in  summer  time  in  return  for  his  audacious 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


205 


raids  on  the  cattle,  to  obtain  which  he  will  sometimes 
break  in  the  side  of  a barn. 

The  skin  realises  from  four  to  twelve  dollars,  according 
to  size  and  condition. 

The  fall  is  the  best  time  for  bear  hunting — ''  the  berry- 
ing time,”  as  it  is  designated  by  the  settlers,  when  he  is 
engaged  in  laying  in  a stock  of  corpulency,  the  material 
whereof  shall  stick  to  his  ribs  during  the  long  fast  of  the 
coming  winter.  So  intent  is  he  now  on  his  luscious  feast 
on  blue  and  whortle  berries,  that  he  does  not  keep  as  good 
a look-out  for  foes  as  at  other  times,  and  may  be  easily 
detected  in  the  early  morning  by  the  observant  hunter, 
who  knows  his  habits  and  meal  times,  and  hunts  round 
the  leeward  edges  of  barrens. 

Later  still,  in  a good  season  for  beechmast,  he  may  be 
hunted  in  hard- wood  hills.  A little  light  snow  will  not 
send  him  home  to  bed,  whilst  it  materially  aids  the 
hunter  in  tracking  the  animal.  Sometimes  the  bear  will 
go  aloft  for  the  mast,  and  even  construct  a rough  platform 
amongst  the  upper  branches,  where  he  can  rest  without 
holding  on.  I have  seen  many  such  apparent  structures, 
and  could  in  no  other  way  account  for  their  appearance, 
and  to  this  I may  add  the  testimony  of  the  Indian. 

The  bear  takes  a deal  of  killing,  and  will  run  an  in- 
credible distance  with  several  mortal  wounds.  A singular 
trait,  approaching  almost  to  reflective  power,  is  his  habit 
of  stopping  in  his  flight  to  pick  up  wet  moss  in  a swamp 
wherewith  to  plug  uj)  the  wound. 

I but  once  surprised  a bear  in  the  wood  in  the  act  of 
feeding,  unconscious  of  my  approach.  My  Indian  saw 
a portion  of  his  black  hair  moving  just  above  the  side  of 
a large  fallen  tree,  and  in  a moment  we  both  lay  prostrate. 


208 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  animal  presently  rose  from  his  hitherto  recumbent 
position  and  sat  up,  munching  his  mouthful  of  beech-nuts 
with  great  apparent  satisfaction — a magnificent  specimen, 
and  black  as  a coal. 

We  should  now  have  fired,  but  at  this  juncture,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  a red  fox,  which  our  tracks  below  had 
probably  disturbed,  raced  up  behind  and  induced  us  to 
look  round.  The  bear  at  once  sank  quietly  down  behind 
the  log,  and,  worming  along,  bounded  over  a precipice  into 
a thick  spruce  swamp  before  we  were  aware  that  we  were 
discovered.  This  fox  must  have  been  his  good  genius. 

Notwithstanding  the  value  of  the  skin  and  the  standing 
grievance  between  the  settler  of  the  back-woods  and  the 
black  bear,  the  latter  is  apparently  increasing  in  numbers 
in  many  parts  of  the  Lower  Provinces.  In  Nova  Scotia 
there  is  no  bounty  on  their  noses,  though  the  wolf  (a  rare 
visitor)  is  thus  placed  under  a ban.  In  Anticosti  bears 
are  exceedingly  numerous,  and  a well-organised  bear 
hunt  on  this  island  would  doubtless  show  a wonderful 
return  of  sport ; but  then — the  flies  ! 


THE  CANADA  POKCUPINE. 

[Erethizon  dorsatus,  Cuvier.) 

This  species  is  common  in  the  woodland  districts  of 
Eastern  North  America,  from  Pennsylvania  to  the  Arctic 
Circle.  West  of  the  Missouri,  according  to  Baird,  it  is 
replaced  by  the  yellow-haired  porcupine  (E.  epixanthus). 

A cave-dwelling  animal,  choosing  its  residence  amongst 
the  dark  recesses  of  collocated  boulders,  or  the  holes  at 
the  roots  of  large  trees,  it  spends  much  of  its  time  abroad. 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


207 


It  is  sometimes  seen  sluggishly  reposing  in  tree  tops,  where 
it  gnaws  the  bark  of  the  young  branches  ; and  is  often 
(especially  in  the  season  of  ripe  berries)  found  in  the  open 
barren,  though  never  far  away  from  its  retreat.  A porcu- 
pine’s den  is  easily  discovered,  both  by  the  broad  trail  or 
path  which  leads  to  it,  and  by  the  quantity  of  ordure  by 
which  the  entrance  is  marked.  From  the  den  the  paths 
diverge  to  some  favourite  feeding  ground — perhaps  a 
grove  of  beech,  on  the  mast  of  which  the  animal  revels  in 
the  fall ; or,  if  it  be  winter  time,  to  the  shelter  of  a tall 
hemlock  spruce.  The  marks  of  the  claws  on  the  bark  are 
a ready  indication  of  its  whereabouts  ; and  as  the  Indian 
hunter  passes  in  search  of  larger  game,  he  knows  he  is 
sure  of  roast  porcupine  if  venison  is  not  procurable,  and 
probably  tumbles  him  down  on  return  to  camp  by  a 
bullet  through  the  head. 

The  spines  of  the  Canadian  porcupine  are  about  three 
inches  long,  proceeding  from  a thick  coat  of  dark  brownish 
hair,  mixed  with  sooty-coloured  bristles.  They  are  largest 
and  most  abundant  over  the  loins,  where  the  animal,  when 
brought  to  a stand,  sets  them  up  in  a fan-like  arc,  and 
presents  a most  formidable  array  of  points  always  turned 
towards  its  opponent.  It  endeavours  at  the  same  time  to 
strike  with  its  thick  muscular  tail,  leaving,  where  the 
blow  falls,  a great  number  of  the  easily-detached  quills 
firmly  sticking  in,  rooted  by  their  barbed  points. 

A porcupine  can  gallop  or  shuffie  along  at  a good  pace, 
and  often,  when  surprised  in  the  open,  makes  good  its 
retreat  to  its  rocky  den,  or  gains  a tree,  up  which  it 
scrambles  rapidly  out  of  reach. 

The  spines  are  of  a dull  white  colour,  with  dusky  tips. 

To  the  forest  Indians  of  Acadie  the  porcupine  is  an 


208 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


animal  of  considerable  importance.  It  is  a very  common 
article  of  food,  and  its  quills  are  extensively  employed  by 
the  squaws  in  ornamentation.  Stained  most  brilliantly 
by  dyes  either  obtained  from  the  woods  or  purchased  in 
the  settlements,  they  are  worked  in  fanciful  patterns  into 
the  birch-bark  ware  (baskets,  screens,  or  trays),  which 
form  their  staple  of  trade  with  the  whites. 

All  the  holes,  hollow  trees,  and  rocky  precipices  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  an  encampment  are  continually  explored 
by  Indian  boys  in  search  of  a porcupine’s  den. 

The  Indians  commonly  possess  little  cur  dogs,  which 
greatly  assist  them  in  discovering  the  animal’s  retreat  ; 
they  will  even  draw  them  forth  from  their  holes  without 
injury  to  themselves — a feat  only  to  be  accomplished  by 
Vetting  hold  of  them  underneath. 

It  is  a curious  fact  that  the  settler’s  dogs  in  general 
evince  a strong  desire  to  hunt  porcupine,  notwithstanding 
the  woeful  plight,  about  the  head  and  forelegs,  in  which 
they  come  out  of  the  encounter,  and  the  long  period  of 
inflammation  to  which  they  are  thereby  subjected.  The 
Indian’s  porcupine-dog,  however,  goes  to  work  in  a far 
more  business-like  manner — seldom  giving  his  master 
occasion  to  extract  a single  quill.  The  Old  Hunter  ” 
tells  me  as  follows  : — I once  knew  an  instance  of  an 
Indian’s  dog,  quite  blind,  that  was  particularly  great  on 
j^orcujyines,  so  much  so,  that  if  they  treed,  the  little 
animal  would  sit  down  beneath,  occasionally  barking,  to 
inform  its  master  where  lodged  the  ‘ fretful  ’ one.  Another 
dog  belonging  to  an  Indian  I knew,  was  not  to  be  beaten 
when  once  on  porcupine.  If  the  animal  was  in  den,  in 
he  went  and,  if  possible,  would  haul  it  out  by  the  tail. 
If  not  strono’  enouok,  the  Indian  would  fasten  his  hand- 


CAVE  LODGERS. 


•209 


kerchief  round  his  middle,  and  attach  to  it  a long  twisted 
withe.  The  dog  would  go  in,  and  presently,  between 
the  two,  out  would  come  the  porcupine.'' 

The  porcupine  becomes  loaded  with  fat  in  the  fall  by 
feasting  on  the  numerous  berries  found  on  the  barrens. 
The  latter  half  of  September  is  their  running  season. 
The  old  ones  are  then  very  rank,  and  not  fit  to  eat. 
Their  call  is  a plaintive  whining  sound,  not  very  dis- 
similar to  the  cry  of  a calf  moose.  At  this  season,  when 
hunting  in  the  woods,  I have  frequently  found  old  males 
with  bad  wounds  on  the  back — the  skin  extensively 
abraded  by,  apparently,  a high  fall  from  a tree  on  the 
edge  of  a rock.  My  Indian  says  with  regard  to  this,  he 
make  himself  sore  back,  purpose  so  as  to  travel  light,  and 
get  clear  of  his  fat." 

The  female  brings  forth  two  at  a birth  in  the  den  very 
early  in  the  spring. 

It  is  a remarkable  fact  that,  though  abundant  in  Nova 
Scotia,  the  porcupine  is  not  found  in  the  island  of  Cape 
Breton,  separated  only  by  the  Gut  of  Canso  in  places 
but  a few  hundred  yards  across.  Frequent  attempts  have 
indeed  been  made  by  Indians  to  introduce  the  animal  in 
Cape  Breton  by  importation  from  the  south  side,  but  have 
always  ended  in  failure.  Though  the  vegetable  features 
of  the  island  are  identical  with  those  of  Nova  Scotia 
proper,  the  porcupine  will  not  live  in  the  woods  of  the 
former  locality.  This  is  a well-ascertained  fact,  and  no 
attempt  at  explanation  can  be  offered. 

Again,  thougli  it  is  found  on  the  Labrador,  and  at  the 
Straits  of  Belle  Isle,  the  great  island  of  Newfoundland, 
which  is  thus  separated  from  the  mainland,  contains  no 
porcupine. 


210 


FOKEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  marmot  of  the  eastern  woodlands  (Arctomys 
monax),  and  the  striped  ground-squirrel,  or  “ chipmunk 
(Tamias  striatus,  Baird),  are  more  properly  burrowing 
animals  than  cave-dwellers,  under  which  heading  we  can 
class  only  the  bear  and  the  porcupine. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 

THE  BROOK  TROUT. 

Salmo  Fontinalis  (Mitchell.) 

The  following  description  of  this  fish — and  I believe 
the  latest — appears  in  the  “Transactions  of  the  Nova 
Scotian  Institute  of  Natural  Science  for  1866,”  and  is 
due  to  Dr.  J.  Bernard  Gilpin,  M.D. : — 

“ The  trout,  as  usually  seen  in  the  lakes  about  Halifax, 
are  in  length  from  ten  to  eighteen  inches,  and  weight 
from  half  a pound  to  two  pounds,  though  these  measure- 
ments are  often  exceeded  or  lessened.  The  outline  of 
back,  starting  from  a rather  round  and  blunt  nose,  rises 
gradually  to  the  insertion  of  the  dorsal  fin,  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  length  of  the  head  from  the  nose  ; it  then 
gradually  declines  to  the  adipose  fin,  and  about  a length 
and  a half  from  that  runs  straight  to  form  a strong  base 
for  the  tail.  The  breadth  of  the  tail  is  about  equal  to 
that  of  the  head.  Below,  the  outline  runs  nearly  straight 
from  the  tail  to  the  anal  fin;  from  thence  it  falls  rapidly 
to  form  a line  more  or  less  convex  (as  the  fish  is  in  or 
out  of  season),  and  returns  to  the  head.  The  inter-max- 
illary very  short,  the  maxillary  long  with  the  free  end 
sharp-pointed,  the  posterior  end  of  the  opercle  is  more 


212 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


angular  than  in  the  S.  Salar,  the  lower  jaw  shorter  than 
upper  when  closed,  appearing  longer  when  open.  The 
eye  large,  about  two  diameters  from  tip  of  nose ; nostrils 
double,  nearer  the  snout  than  the  eye.  Of  the  fins,  the 
dorsal  has  ten  or  eleven  rays,  not  counting  the  rudimen- 
tary ones,  in  shape  irregularly  rhomboid,  but  the  free 
edge  rounded  or  curved  outward  : the  adipose  fin  varies, 
some  sickle-shaped  with  free  end  very  long,  others 
having  it  very  straight  and  short.  The  caudal  fin  gently 
curved  rather  than  cleft,  but  differing  in  individuals.  Of 
the  lower  fins  they  all  have  the  first  ray  very  thick  and 
flat,  and  always  faced  white  with  a black  edge,  the  other 
rays  more  or  less  red.  The  head  is  blunt,  and  back 
rounded  when  looked  down  upon.  The  teeth  are  upon 
the  inter-maxillary  bone,  maxillary  bones,  the  palatine, 
and  about  nine  on  the  tongue.  There  are  none  so-called 
vomerine  teeth,  though  now  and  then  w^e  find  one  tooth 
behind  the  arch  of  the  palate,  where  they  are  sometimes 
irregularly  bunched  together.  The  colour  varies ; but 
through  all  the  variations  there  are  forms  of  colour  that, 
being  always  persistent,  must  be  regarded  as  typical. 
There  are  always  vermilion  spots  on  the  sides ; there 
are  always  other  spots,  sometimes  decided  in  outhne, 
in  others  diffused  into  dapples,  but  always  present.  The 
caudal  and  dorsal  fins  are  always  spotted,  and  of  the 
prevailing  hue  of  the  body.  The  lower  fins  have  always 
broad  white  edges,  lined  with  black  and  coloured  with 
some  modification  of  red.  The  chin  and  upper  part  of 
the  belly  are  always  white.  With  these  permanent  mark- 
ings, the  body  colour  varies  from  horn  colour  to  greenish- 
grey,  blue-grey,  running  into  azure,  black,  and  black 
with  warm  red  on  the  lower  parts,  dark  green  with  lower 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


213 


parts  bright  yellow;  and,  lastly,  in  the  case  of  young 
fish,  with  vertical  bands  of  dusky  black.  The  spots 
are  very  bright  and  distinct  when  in  high  condition  or 
spawning  ; faint,  diffused,  and  running  into  dapples 
when  in  poor  condition.  In  the  former  case  all  the 
hues  are  most  vivid,  and  heightened  by  profuse  nacre. 
In  the  other  the  spots  are  very  pale  yellowish-white, 
running  on  the  back  into  vermicular  lines.  The  iris  in 
all  is  dark  brown.  I have  seen  the  rose  or  red -coloured 
ones  at  all  times  of  the  year.  The  young  of  the  first 
year  are  greenish  horn  colour,  with  brown  vertical  stripes 
and  bright  scarlet  fins  and  tail,  already  showing  the 
typical  marks  and  spots,  and  also  the  vermilion  specs. 
Fin  rays  D.  13,  P.  13,  V.  8,  A.  10  ; gill  rays  12.  Scales 
very  small ; the  dorsal  has  two  rudimentary  rays,  ten  or 
eleven  long  ones,  varying  in  different  fish.  Typical 
marks — ^axillary  plate  nearly  obsolete,  free  end  of  maxil- 
lary sharp,  bars  in  young,  vermilion  specs,  both  young 
and  adult  lower  fins  red  with  white  and  black  edge.” 

To  the  above  description  I would  add  that  the  nume- 
rous yellow  spots  which  prevail  in  every  specimen  of 
S.  Fontinalis  vary  from  bright  golden  to  pale  primrose, 
that  the  colour  of  the  specs  inclines  more  to  carmine 
than  vermilion,  and  that  in  bright,  well-conditioned  fish, 
the  latter  are  surrounded  by  circlets  of  pale  and  purest 
azure. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  American  brook  trout  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  fresh- water  fishes.  Just  taken 
from  his  element  and  laid  on  the  moist  moss  by  the  edge 
of  the  forest  stream,  a more  captivating  form  can  scarcely 
be  imagined.  His  sides  appear  as  if  studded  with  gems. 
The  brilliant  brown  eye  and  bronzy  gill-covers  reflect 


214 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


golden  liglit;  and  the  gradations  of  the  dark  green  back, 
with  its  fantastic  labyrinthine  markings,  to  the  soft 
yellow  beneath,  are  marked  by  a central  roseate  tinge 
inclining  to  lavender  or  pale  mauve. 

This  species  abounds  throughout  the  Northern  States 
and  British  provinces,  showing  a great  variety  as  to 
form  and  colour  (both  external  and  of  the  flesh)  accord- 
ing to  locality.  In  the  swampy  bog-hole  the  trout  is 
black  ; his  flesh  of  a pale  yellowish-white,  flabby  and 
insipid.  In  low-lying  forest  lakes  margined  by  swamp, 
where  from  a rank  soft  bottom  the  water-lilies  crop 
up  and  almost  conceal  the  surface  near  the  shores,  he 
is  the  same  coarse  and  spnitless  fish.  Worthless  for 
the  camp  frying-pan,  we  leave  him  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  mink,  the  eel,  and  the  leech.  The  bright,  bold 
trout  of  the  large  lakes,  is  a far  different  fish.  His  com- 
paratively small  and  well-shaped  head,  followed  by  an 
arched,  thick  shoulder,  depth  of  body,  and  brilliant 
colouring  ; the  spirited  dash  with  which  he  seizes  his  prey, 
and,  finally,  the  bright  salmon-pink  hue  of  his  delicate 
flesh,  make  him  an  object  of  attraction  to  both  sportsman 
and  epicure.  Such  fish  we  find  in  the  clearest  water, 
where  the  shores  of  the  lake  are  fringed  with  granite 
boulders,  with  beaches  of  white  sand,  or  disintegrated 
granite,  where  the  rush  and  the  water- weeds  are  only 
seen  in  little  sheltered  coves,  where  the  face  of  the  lake 
is  dotted  with  rocky,  bush-covered  islands,  and  where 
there  are  great  cool  depths  to  which  he  can  retreat 
when  sickened  by  the  heat  of  the  surface-water  at  mid- 
summer. 

Though  more  a lacustrine  than  a river  fish,  seldom 
attaining  any  size  if  confined  to  running  water  between 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


215 


the  sea  and  impassable  falls,  the  American  tront  is  found 
to  most  perfection  and  in  greatest  number  in  lakes  wliich 
communicate  with  the  sea,  and  allow  him  to  indulge 
in  his  well  ascertained  predilection  for  salt,  or  rather 
brackish  tidal-water.  A favourite  spot  is  the  debouchure 
of  a lake,  where  the  narrowing  water  gradually  acquires 
velocity  of  current,  and  where  the  trout  lie  in  skulls  and 
give  the  greatest  sport  to  the  fly-fisher. 

In  a recent  notice  of  S.  Fontinalis  from  the  pen  of  an 
observant  sportsman  and  naturalist  appearing  in  ‘‘  Land 
and  Water,^^  this  fish  is  surmised  to  be  a char.  Its  claim 
to  be  a member  of  the  Salveline  gi*oup  is  favoured  by 
reference  to  its  similar  habits  in  visiting  the  tidal  por- 
tions of  rivers  on  the  part  of  the  char  of  Norway  and 
Sweden,  its  similar  deep  red  colouring  on  the  belly, 
and  general  resemblance.  I am  quite  of  ‘‘  Lduque’s 
opinion  touching  this  point,  and  think  the  common 
name  of  the  American  fish  should  be  char.  Indeed, 
I find  the  New  York  char  is  one  of  the  names  it 
already  bears  in  an  American  sporting  work,  though  no 
comparison  is  made.  Besides  its  sea-going  propensities, 
its  preferring  dark,  still  waters,  to  gravelly  shallow 
streams,  and  its  resplendent  colours  when  in  season,  a 
most  important  point  of  resemblance  to  the  char  would 
seem  to  be  the  minuteness  of  its  scales. 

The  American  trout  spawns  in  October  and  November 
in  shallow  water,  and  on  gravel,  sand,  or  mud,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  the  soil  at  the  bottom  of  his 
domains. 

In  fishing  for  trout  through  the  ice  in  winter  to  add 
to  our  camp  fare,  I have  taken  them  at  the  run  in ''  to 
a large  lake,  the  females  full  of  spawn  apparently  ready 


216 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


to  drop  at  the  end  of  January,  and  all  in  firm  condition. 
This  would  seem  a curious  delay  of  the  spa^Aming  season  : 
my  Indian  stated  that  trout  spawn  in  early  spring  as 
well  as  in  the  fall.  They  congregate  at  the  head  of  a 
lake  in  large  numbers  in  winter,  and  readily  take  bait,  a 
piece  of  pork,  or  a part  of  their  own  white  throats,  let 
down  on  a hook  throusfh  the  ice.  In  such  localities  thev 
get  a good  livelihood  by  feeding  on  the  caddis- worms 
which  crawl  plentifully  over  the  rocks  under  water. 


TROUT  FISHING. 

Before  the  ice  is  fairly  off  the  lakes — and  then  a 
few  days  must  be  allowed  for  the  ice-water  to  run  off — 
there  is  no  use  in  attempting  to  use  the  fly  for  trout 
fishing  in  rivers  or  runs,  though  eager  disciples  of  Walton 
may  succeed  in  hauling  out  a few  ill-fed,  sickly  looking 
fish  from  spots  of  open  water  by  diligently  tempting  with 
the  worm  at  an  earlier  date.  Indeed  trout  may  be  taken 
with  bait  through  the  ice  throughout  the  winter,  but  they 
prove  worthless  in  the  eating.  But  after  the  warm  rain 
storms  of  April  have  performed  their  mission,  and  the 
soft  west  wind  has  coursed  over  the  surface  of  the  water, 
then  may  the  fisher  proceed  to  the  head  of  the  forest 
lake  and  cast  his  flies  over  the  eddying  pool  where  the 
brook  enters,  and  where  the  hungry  trout,  aroused  to 
a})petite,  are  congregated  to  seek  for  food. 

“Now,  when  the  first  foul  torrent  of  the  brooks, 

Swell’d  wnth  the  vernal  rains,  is  ebbed  away. 

And,  whitening  down  their  mossy-tinctur’d  stream 
Descends  the  billowy  foam  : now  is  the  time. 

While  yet  the  dark-brown  water  aids  the  guile. 

To  tempt  the  trout.” 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


217 


About  the  10th  of  May  in  Nova  Scotia,  when  warm 
hazy  weather  occurs  with  westerly  wind,  the  trout  in  all 
the  lakes  and  streams  (an  enumeration  of  which  would 
be  impossible  from  their  extraordinary  frequency  of 
occurrence  in  this  province)  are  in  the  best  mood  for 
taking  the  fly  ; and,  moreover,  full  of  the  energy  of  new 
found  life,  wdiich  appears  in  these  climates  to  influence 
such  animals  as  have  been  dormant  durino;  the  lono; 

o o 

winter,  equally  wdth  the  suddenly  outbursting  vegetation. 
A few  days  later,  and  the  great  annual  feast  of  the  trout 
commences — the  feast  of  the  May-fly.  Emerging  from 
their  cases  all  round  the  shores,  rocky  shallows,  and 
islands,  the  May-flies  now  cover  the  surface  of  the  lakes  in 
multitudes,  and  are  constantly  sucked  in  by  the  greedy 
trout,  which  leave  their  haunts,  and  disperse  themselves 
over  the  lake  in  search  of  the  alighting  insects.  Although 
the  fish  thus  gorge  themselves,  and,  for  some  days  after 
the  flies  have  disappeared,  are  quite  apathetic,  they  derive 
much  benefit  in  flesh  and  flavour  therefrom.  The  abun- 
dance of  fish  w’ould  scarcely  be  credited  till  one  sees  the 
countless  rises  over  the  surface  of  the  water  constantly 
recurring  during  the  prevalence  of  the  May-fly.  “ It’s 
a steady  boil  of  them,”  says  the  ragged  urchin  with  a 
long  “ troutin’-pole,”  as  he  calls  his  weapon,  in  one  hand, 
and  a hime  cork  at  the  end  of  a string  with  a bunch  of 
worms  attached,  in  the  other. 

There  is  now  no  one  more  likely  place  than  another 
for  a cast.  Still  sport  may  be  had  with  the  artificial 
May-fly,  especially  in  sheltered  coves,  where  the  fish 
resort  when  a strong  wdnd  blows  the  insects  off  the  open 
w^ater.  Some  anglers  of  the  more  patient  type  will  take 
fish  at  this  time  on  the  lake  by  sitting  on  rocks,  and 


218 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


gently  flipping  out  a very  fine  line  with  minute  hooks, 
to  which  the  living  May-fly  is  attached  by  means  of  a 
little  adhesive  fir  balsam,  as  far  as  they  can  on  the 
surface  of  the  water,  where  they  float  till  some  passing 
fish  rises  and  sucks  in  the  bait.  However  the  best  sport 
is  to  be  obtained  on  the  lakes  a few  days  after  the 
“ ]\Iay-fly  glut,’’  as  it  is  termed,  is  over. 

The  May  and  stone  flies  of  America,  which  make  their 
appearance  about  the  same  time,  much  resemble  the 
ephemeral  representatives  of  their  order  found  in  the  old 
country.  The  May-fly  of  the  New  World  is,  however, 
different  to  the  green  drake,  being  of  a glossy  black 
colour. 

With  the  exception  of  these  two  insects,  we  have  no 
representatives  of  natural  flies  in  our  American  fly-books. 
The  scale  is  large  and  the  style  gaudy ; and,  if  the  bunch 
of  bright  feathers,  which  sometimes  falls  over  the  head 
of  Salmo  fontinalis,  were  so  presented  to  the  view  of  a 
shy  English  trout,  I question  whether  he  would  ever  rise 
to  the  surface  again.  Artificial  flies  are  sold  in  most  pro- 
vincial towns  in  the  Lower  Provinces,  and  are  much  souo’ht 
for  by  the  rising  generation,  who,  however,  often  scorn 
the  store-rod,  contenting  themselves  with  a good  pliable 
wattle  cut  in  situ.  It  is  surprising  to  see  the  bunches  of 
trout  the  settlers’  “sonnies”  will  bring  home  from  some 
little  lake,  perhaps  only  known  to  themselves,  which 
they  may  have  discovered  back  in  the  woods  when 
hunting  up  the  cows ; and  the  satisfaction  with  which 
the  little  ragged  urchin  will  show  you  barefoot  the  way 
to  your  fishing  grounds,  skipping  over  the  sharp  granite 
rocks  strewed  in  the  path,  and  brushing  through  fir 
thickets  with  the  greatest  resolution,  all  to  become  pos- 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


219 


sessed  of  a bunch  of  your  flies  and  a small  length  of 
old  gut. 

The  cast  of  flies  best  adapted  for  general  use  for  trout- 
fishing in  Nova  Scotia  consists  of  the  red  hackle  or  palmer, 
a bright  bushy  scarlet  fly,  with  perhaps  a bit  of  gold  twist 
or  tinsel  further  to  enhance  its  charms,  a brown  palmer, 
and  a yellow-bodied  fly  of  wool  with  mallard  wings.  The 
latter  wing  on  a body  of  claret  wool  with  gold  tinsel  is 
also  excellent.  Many  other  and  gaudier  flies  are  made 
and  sold  to  tempt  the  fish  later  on  in  the  year  : they 
are  quite  fanciful,  and  resemble  nothing  in  nature.  I 
cannot  recommend  the  artificial  minnow  for  use  in  this 
part  of  the  world,  though  trout  will  take  them.  They 
are  always  catching  on  submerged  rocks,  and  are  very 
troublesome  in  many  ways.  The  most  successful  minnow 
1 ever  used  was  one  made  on  the  spot  by  an  Indian  who 
was  with  me  after  moose — a common  large  trout-hook 
thickly  bound  round  with  white  worsted,  a piece  of 
tinfoil  covering  the  under  part,  and  a good  bunch  of 
peacock's  herl  inserted  at  the  head,  bound  down  along 
the  back,  and  secured  at  the  end  of  the  shank,  leaving 
a little  projection  to  represent  the  tail.  It  was  light  as 
a feather,  and  could  be  thrown  very  accurately  any- 
where— a great  advantage  when  you  find  yourself  back 
in  the  woods  and  wish  to  pull  a few  trout  for  the  camp 
frying-pan  from  out  a little  pond  overhung  with  bushes. 
The  fish  took  it  most  greedily. 

The  common  trout  is  to  be  met  with  in  every  lake, 
or  even  pond,  throughout  the  British  Provinces.  One 
cannot  walk  far  through  the  depths  of  a forest  district 
before  hearing  the  gurgling  of  a rill  of  water  amongst 
stones  beneath  the  moss.  Following  the  stream,  one 


220 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


soon  comes  on  a sparkling  forest  brook  overhung  by 
Avaving  fern  fronds,  and  little  pools  AAntli  a bottom  of 
golden  gravel.  The  trout  is  sure  to  be  here,  and  on 
your  approach  darts  under  the  shelter  of  the  projecting 
roots  of  the  mossy  bank.  A little  further,  and  a AAunding 
lane  of  still  Avater  skirted  by  graceful  maples  and  birches, 
leads  to  the  open  expanses  of  the  lake,  A\"here  the  gloom 
of  the  heaAy  Avoods  is  exchanged  for  the  clear  daylight. 
This  is  the  '‘run  in,'’  in  local  phraseology,  and  here  the 
lake  trout  resort  as  a faA'ourite  station  at  all  times  of  the 
year.  A basket  of  two  or  three  dozen  of  these  speckled 
beauties  is  your  reward  for  haAung  found  your  Avay  to 
these  AA’ild  but  enchanting  spots. 

Though,  as  has  been  obseiwed,  the  trout  of  America  is 
more  a lake  than  a rrter  fish,  yet  the  gently  running  Avater 
at  the  foot  of  a lake  just  before  the  toss  and  tumble  of  a 
rapid  is  reached  is  a faA'Ourite  station  for  trout.  Such 
spots  are  excellent  for  fly-fishing  ; I liaA^e  frequently  taken 
fiA^e  dozen  fine  fish  in  an  hour,  in  the  Liverpool,  Tangier, 
and  other  noble  riA^ers  in  NoA^a  Scotia,  from  rapid  AA^ater, 
Aveighing  from  one  to  three  pounds. 

ToAvards  midsummer  the  fish  begin  to  refuse  fly  or 
bait,  retiring  to  deep  pools  under  the  shade  of  high  rocks, 
sickened  apparently  by  the  Avarmth  of  the  lake  Avater. 
As,  however,  the  Avoods,  especially  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Avater,  are  at  this  season  infested  Avith  mosquitoes 
and  black  flies,  a day’s  “outing”  by  the  lake  or  rrter 
side  becomes  anything  but  recreatAe,  if  not  unbearable. 
The  tAAunge  of  the  almost  iiiAusible  sand-fly  adds,  too, 
to  our  torments.  In  Nova  Scotia  the  saA^aixe  black- 
fly  (Simulium  molestum)  disappears  at  the  end  of  June, 
though  in  NeAv  BrunsAvick  the  piscator  Avill  find  these 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


221 


wretches  lively  the  whole  summer.  They  attack  every- 
thing of  life  moving  in  the  woods,  being  dislodged  from 
every  branch  shaken  by  a passing  object.  No  wonder 
the  poor  moose  rush  into  the  lakes,  and  so  bury  them- 
selves in  the  water  that  their  ears  and  head  are  alone 
seen  above  the  surface.  In  Labrador  the  flies  are  yet 
worse,  and  travelling  in  the  interior  becomes  all  but 
impracticable  during  the  summer. 

In  August  the  trout  recover  themselves  under  the 
cooling  influence  of  the  frosty  atmosphere  which  now 
prevails  at  night,  and  will  again  take  the  fly  readily,  con- 
tinuing to  do  so  until  quite  late  in  the  fall,  and  even  in 
the  spawning  season. 


THE  SEA  TEOUT. 

Salmo  Canadensis  (Hamilton  Smith). 

Closely  approximating  to  the  brook  trout  in  shape 
and  colouring — especially  after  having  been  some  time 
in  fresh  water — the  above  named  species  has  been  pro- 
nounced distinct.  They  have  so  near  a resemblance  that 
until  separated  by  the  careful  comparison  of  Dr.  Gilpin, 
I always  believed  them  to  be  the  same  fish,  especially 
as  the  brook  trout  as  aforesaid  is  known  to  frequent 
tidal  waters  at  the  head  of  estuaries.  The  following 
description  of  the  sea  trout  is  taken  from  Dr.  Gilpin^s 
article  on  the  Salmonidse  before  alluded  to,  and  is  the 
result  of  examination  of  several  fish  taken  from  fresh 
water,  and  in  the  harbour  : — 

“ Of  those  from  the  tide-way,  length  from  twelve  to 
fourteen  inches ; deepest  breadth,  something  more  than 


222 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


one  quarter  from  tip  of  nose  to  insertion  of  tail.  The 
outline  rounds  up  rather  suddenly  from  a small  and 
arched  head  to  insertion  of  dorsal ; slopes  quickly  but 
gently  to  adipose  fin ; then  runs  straight  to  insertion 
of  caudal ; tail  gently  curved  rather  than  cleft ; lower 
line  straight  to  anal,  then  falling  rather  rapidly  to  make 
a very  convex  line  for  belly,  and  ending  at  the  gills. 
The  body  deeper  and  more  compressed  than  in  the 
brook  trout.  The  dorsal  is  quadrangular ; the  free  edge 
convex  ; the  lower  fins  having  the  first  rays  in  each 
thicker  and  flatter  than  the  brook  trout.  The  adipose 
fin  varies,  some  with  very  long  and  arched  free  end,  in 
others  small  and  straight.  The  specimen  from  the  fresh 
water  was  very  much  longer  and  thinner,  with  head 
proportionally  larger.  The  colour  of  those  from  the 
tide- way  was  more  or  less  dark  greenish  blue  on  back 
shading  to  ash  blue  and  white  below,  lips  edged  with 
dusky.  They  all  had  faint  cream-coloured  spots,  both 
above  and  below  the  lateral  line.  .With  one  exception, 
they  all  had  vermilion  specs,  but  some  only  on  one  side, 
others  two  or  three.  In  all,  the  head  was  greenish  horn 
colour.  The  colour  of  the  fins  in  pectoral,  ventral,  and 
anal,  varied  from  pale  white,  bluish-white,  to  pale 
orange,  with  a dusky  streak  on  different  individuals. 
Dorsal  dusky  with  faint  spots,  and  caudal  with  dusky 
tips — on  some  a little  orange  w^ash.  The  lower  fins  had 
the  first  ray  flat,  and  white  edged  with  dusky.  In  the 
specimen  taken  on  September  the  10th  from  the  fresh 
water,  the  blue  and  silver  had  disappeared,  and  dingy 
ash  colour  had  spread  down  below  the  lateral  line ; the 
greenish  horn  colour  had  spread  itself  over  the  whole 
gills  except  the  chin,  which  was  white.  The  silvery 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


223 


reflections  were  all  gone,  the  cream-coloured  dapples 
were  much  more  decided  in  colour  and  shape,  and  the 
vermilion  specs  very  numerous.  The  caudal  and  all  the 
lower  fins  had  an  orange  wash,  the  dorsal  dusky  yellow 
with  black  spots,  the  lower  fins  retaining  the  white  flat 
ray  with  a dusky  edging,  and  the  caudal  a few  spots. 
The  teeth  of  all  were  upon  the  inter-maxillary,  maxil- 
laries,  palatine,  and  the  tongue ; none  on  the  vomer 
except  now  and  then  one  tooth  behind  the  arch  of  palate. 
Fin  rays,  D.  13,  P.  13,  Y.  8,  A.  10  ; gill  rays  12.  Axil- 
lary scale  very  small.  Dorsal,  with  two  rudimentary 
rays,  ten  or  eleven  long  ones,  free  edge  convex ; first  ray 
of  lower  fins  flat,  scales  very  small,  but  rather  larger 
than  those  of  brook  trout.'’ 

Dr.  Gilpin  sums  up  as  follows  on  the  question  of  its 
identity  with  brook  trout : — 

‘‘We  must  acknowledge  it  exceedingly  closely  allied 
to  Fontinalis — that  it  has  the  teeth,  shape  of  fins,  axillary 
plate,  tail,  dapples,  vermilion  specs,  spotted  dorsal,  alike; 
that  when  it  runs  to  fresh  water  it  changes  its  colour, 
and,  in  doing  this,  approximates  to  its  red  fin  and  dingy 
green  with  more  numerous  vermilion  specs,  still  more 
closely.  Whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  we  find  it  living 
apart  from  Fontinalis,  pursuing  its  own  laws,  attaining  a 
greater  size,  and  returning  year  after  year  to  the  sea. 
The  Fontinalis  is  often  found  unchanged  under  the  same 
circumstances.  The  former  fish  always  preserves  its  more 
arched  head,  deeper  and  more  compressed  body,  and 
perhaps  shorter  fins.  In  giving  it  a specific  name,  there- 
fore, and  using  the  appropriate  one  given  by  Colonel 
Hamilton  Smith — so  far  as  I can  discover  the  first  de- 
scriber — 1 think  I will  be  borne  out  by  all  naturalists.” 


224 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  size  attained  by  this  fish  along  the  Atlantic  coasts 
rarely  exceeds  five  pounds  : from  one  to  three  pounds 
is  the  weight  of  the  generality  of  specimens.  The 
favourite  localities  for  sea  trout  are  the  numerous  har- 
bours with  which  the  coasts  of  the  maritime  provinces 
(of  Nova  Scotia  in  particular)  are  frequently  indented. 
First  seen  in  the  early  spring,  they  affect  these  harbours 
throughout  the  summer,  luxuriating  on  the  rich  food 
afforded  on  the  sand  flats,  or  amongst  the  kelp  shoals. 
On  the  former  localities  the  sand-hopper  (Talitrus)  seems 
to  be  their  principal  food;  and  they  pursue  the  shoals  of 
small  fry  which  haunt  the  weeds,  preying  on  the  smelt 
(Osmerus)  on  its  way  to  the  brooks,  and  on  the  caplin 
(Mallotus)  in  the  harbours  of  Newfoundland  and  Cape 
Breton.  They  will  take  an  artificial  fly  either  in  the 
harbour  or  in  fresh  water. 

When  hooked  by  the  fly-fisherman  on  their  first 
entrance  to  the  fresh  water,  they  afford  sport  second 
only  to  that  of  salmon-fishing.  No  more  beautiful  fish 
ever  reposed  in  an  angler’s  basket.  The  gameness  with 
which  they  prolong  the  contest — often  flinging  them- 
selves salmon-like  from  the  water — the  flashing  lights 
reflected  from  their  sides  as  they  struggle  for  life  on 
removal  of  the  fly  from  their  lips,  their  graceful  form, 
and  colouring  so  exquisitely  delicate— sides  molten-silver 
with  carmine  spangles,  and  back  of  light  mackerel-green 
■ — and,  lastly,  the  delicious  flavour  of  their  flesh  when 
brought  to  table,  entitle  the  sea  trout  to  a high  conside- 
ration and  place  amongst  the  game-fish  of  the  provinces. 

In  some  harbours  the  trout  remains  all  the  summer 
months  feeding  on  its  favourite  grounds,  but  in  general 
it  returns  to  its  native  fresh  water  at  distinctly  marked 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


225 


periods,  and  in  large  detachments.  In  the  early  spring, 
before  the  snow  water  has  left  the  rivers,  a few  may 
be  taken  at  the  head  of  the  tide — fresh  fish  from  the 
salt  water  mixed  with  logics,  or  spent  fish  that  have 
passed  the  winter,  after  spawning  in  the  lakes,  under 
the  ice.  The  best  run  of  fish  occurs  in  June — the 
midsummer  or  strawberry  run,  as  it  is  locally  called — the 
season  being  indicated  by  the  ripening  of  the  wild  straw- 
berry. As  with  the  salmon,  there  is  a final  ascent, 
probably  of  male  fish,  late  in  the  fall.  The  spawning 
fish  remain  under  the  ice  all  winter  in  company  with  the 
salmon,  returning  to  sea  as  spent  fish  with  the  kelts 
when  the  rivers  are  swelled  by  freshets  from  the  melting 
snow. 


SEA  TROUT  FISHING. 

A more  delightful  season  to  the  sportsman  than 
strawberry  time'^  on  the  banks  of  some  fine  river 
entering  an  Atlantic  harbour  and  well  known  for  its 
sea  trout  fishing,  can  hardly  be  imagined.  With  rivers 
and  woods  refreshed  by  recent  rains,  the  former  at  a 
perfect  state  of  water  for  fishing,  and  the  river-side 
paths  through  the  forest  redolent  with  the  aroma  of  the 
summer  flora,  and  the  delicious  perfume  of  heated  fir 
boughs,  the  angler’s  camp  is,  or  should  be,  a sylvan 
abode  of  perfect  bliss.  Or  even  better  — for  then 
we  are  free  from  the  persistent  attack  of  mosquito 
or  black  fly  — is  the  cabin  of  a comfortable  yacht, 
in  which  we  shift  from  harbour  to  harbour,  anchoring 
near  the  mouth  of  the  entering  river.  The  flies  and 
sea  fog  are  the  only  drawbacks  to  the  pleasant  holiday 


226 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  a tr outing  cruise  along^  shore.  The  former  seldom 
venture  from  land  (even  on  the  forest  lake  they  leave 
the  canoe  or  raft  at  a few  yards’  distance  from  the  shore) 
and,  if  the  west  wind  be  propitious,  the  cold  damp 
fog  is  driven  away  to  the  north-east,  following  the 
coast  line,  several  miles  out  to  sea. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  of  scenery  in  some  of 
the  Atlantic  harbours  of  Nova  Scotia ; their  innumer- 
able islands  and  heavily- wooded  shores  hinged  with  the 
golden  kelp,  the  wild  undulating  hills  of  maple  rising 
in  the  background,  the  patches  of  meadow,  and  the 
neat  little  white  shanties  of  the  fishermen’s  clearings,  are 
the  prettiest  and  most  common  details  of  such  pictures, 
which  never  fade  from  the  memory  of  the  lover  of 
nature.  How  easily  are  recalled  to  remembrance  the 
fresh  clear  summer  mornings  enjoyed  on  the  water ; 
the  fir  woods  of  the  western  shores  bathed  in  the 
morning  sunbeams,  the  perfect  reflections  of  the  islands 
and  of  the  little  fishing  schooners,  the  wreaths  of  blue 
smoke  rising  from  their  cabin  stoves,  and  rendered 
distinct  by  the  dark  fir  woods  behind,  and  the 
roar  of  the  distant  rapids,  where  the  river  joins  the 
harbour,  borne  in  cadence  on  the  ear,  mingled  with  the 
cheerful  sounds  of  awakening:  life  from  the  clearing:s. 
The  bald-healed  eagles  (H.  leucocephalus)  sail  majes- 
tically through  the  air,  conspicuous  when  seen  against 
the  line  of  woods  by  their  snow-white  necks  and  tails. 
The  graceful  little  tern  (Sterna  hirundo)  is  incessantly 
occupied,  circling  over  the  harbour,  shrilly  screaming, 
and  ever  and  anon  dashing  down  upon  the  water  to 
clutch  the  small  fry ; whilst  the  common  kingfisher,  as 
abundant  by  the  sea-shore  as  in  the  interior,  thinking 


^ - V ■ yW'’-  - . 

‘■'sj''-'  '■ 


FW'  P^RS^  ’ ■ ■ 


Pilaff i 


;A  ,^A'rv\'v  ^*wV- ■■■;^'  ■ - ''®'i^' 

■ ' • • v.’A*  A 


-V,;* 


• ■ 


4 


MUSQU0D0130IT  HARBOUR. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


227 


all  fish,  salt  or  fresh  water,  that  come  to  his  net,  equally 
good,  shoots  over  the  harbour  with  jerking  flight,  and 
uttering  his  wild  rattling  cry  ; now  and  then  he  makes 
an  impetuous  downward  dash,  completely  burying  himself 
beneath  the  surface  in  seizing  his  prey. 

If  there  is  a run  of  trout,  and  we  wish  to  fish  the 
river,  we  go  to  the  sea-pools,  which  the  fish  enter  with  the 
rising  tide,  and  where  we  may  see  their  silvery  sides 
flashing  as  they  gambol  in  the  eddies  under  the  appa- 
rently delightful  influence  of  the  highly-aerated  water 
of  a large  and  rapid  stream,  or  as  they  rush  at  the 
dancing  deceit  which  we  agitate  over  the  surface  of  the 
pool.  Here,  in  their  first  resting-place  on  their  way  up 
the  river,  they  will  always  take  the  fly  most  readily ; and 
with  good  tackle,  a propitious  day,  and  the  by  no  means 
despicable  aid  of  a smart  hand  with  the  landing-net,  the 
mossy  bank  soon  glitters  with  a dozen  or  two  of  these 
delicious  fish. 

Should  they  not  be  running,  or  shy  of  rising  in  the 
fresh  water  from  some  of  the  many  unaccountable 
humours  in  which  all  game  fish  are  apt  to  indulge, 
harbour  fishing  is  our  resource,  and  we  betake  ourselves 
to  the  edge  of  the  sand  flats  where  the  fish,  dispersed 
in  all  directions  during  high  water,  now  congregate 
and  lie  under  the  weeds  which  fringe  the  edge  of  the 
tide  channels.  Half-tide  is  the  best  time,  and  the  trout 
rush  out  from  under  the  kelp  at  any  gaudy  fly,  tempt- 
ingly thrown  towards  the  edge,  with  a wonderful  dash, 
and  may  be  commonly  taken  two  at  a time.  The  trout- 
beaches  in  Musquodoboit  Harbour,  lying  off  Big  Island, 
of  which  an  engraving  is  given,  may  be  a pleasant 
remembrance  to  many  who  may  read  these  lines. 


228 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


A deserted  clearing,  with  soft  grassy  banks  positively 
reddened  with  wild  strawberries,  is  a most  tempting  spot 
for  a picnic,  and  we  go  ashore  with  pots  and  pans  to 
bivouac  on  the  sward.  Boiled  or  fried,  shall  be  the 
trout  ? is  the  question  ; we  try  both.  Perhaps  the 
former  is  the  liest  way  of  cooking  the  delicate  and 
salmon-flavoured  sea  trout  (especially  the  larger  fish),  but 
in  camp  we  generally  patronise  a fry,  and  this  is  our 
mode  of  proceeding.  The  fire  must  be  bright  and  low, 
the  logs  burning  without  smoke  or  steam ; the  frying- 
pan  is  laid  on  with  several  thick  slices  of  the  best 
flavoured  fat  pork,  and,  when  this  is  sufficiently  melted 
and  the  pan  crackling  hot,  we  put  in  the  trout,  split 
and  cleaned,  and  lay  the  slices  of  pork,  now  sufficiently 
bereft  of  their  gra^y,  over  them.  A little  artistic 
manoeuvring,  so  as  to  lubricate  the  rapidly  brovming 
sides  of  the  fish,  and  they  are  turned  so  soon  as  the 
under  surface  shows  of  a light  chestnut  hue.  Just 
before  taking  off,  add  the  seasoning  and  a tablespoonful 
of  Worcester.  The  tin  plates  are  now  held  forth  to 
receive  the  spluttering  morsels  canted  from  the  pan,  and 
we  fall  back  on  the  couch  of  maple  boughs  to  eat  in 
the  approved  style  of  the  ancients,  Avhilst  the  fresh  mid- 
day breeze  from  the  Atlantic  modifies  the  heat,  and 
drives  away  to  the  shelter  of  the  surrounding  bushes 
the  fisherman’s  most  uncompromising  foes — the  mos- 
quitoes and  black  flies. 

In  Nova  Scotia  the  best  localities  for  pursuing  this 
attractive  sport  are  the  harbours  to  the  eastward  of 
Halifax — Musquodoboit,  Tangier,  Ship,  Beaver,  Liscomb, 
and  Country  harbours.  In  Cape  Breton  the  beautiful 
Margarie  is  one  of  the  most  noted  streams  for  sea  trout, 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


229 


and  its  clear  water  and  picturesque  scenery,  winding 
through  intervale  meadows  dotted  with  groups  of  witch 
elm,  and  backed  by  wooded  hills  over  a thousand  feet 
in  height,  entitle  it  to  pre-eminence  amongst  the  rivers  of 
the  Gulf. 

Prince  Edwards  Island  affords  some  good  sea-trout 
fishing,  and,  further  north,  the  streams  of  the  Bay  of 
Chaleurs  and  of  both  shores  of  the  St.  Lawrence  are  so 
thronged  with  this  fish,  in  its  season,  near  the  head  of 
the  tide,  as  seriously  to  impede  the  salmon  fisher  in  his 
nobler  pursuit,  taking  the  salmon  fly  with  a pertina- 
city against  which  it  is  useless  to  contend  ; nor  is  he 
free  from  their  attacks  until  a cascade  of  sufficient 
dimensions  has  intervened  between  the  haunts  of  the 
two  fish. 


THE  SALMON. 

{Salmo  Salar.) 

The  Salmon  of  the  Atlantic  coasts  of  America  not 
having  been  as  yet  specifically  separated  from  the  Euro- 
pean fish,  a scientific  description  is  unnecessary,  and  we 
pass  on  to  note  the  habits  of  this  noble  game  fish  of  our 
provincial  rivers. 

From  the  once  productive  rivers  of  the  United  States 
— with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  fish  taken  in  the 
Penobscot,  or  the  Kennebec  in  Maine — the  salmon  has 
long  since  been  driven,  the  last  recorded  capture  in  the 
Hudson  being  in  the  year  1840.  Mr.  Eoosevelt,  a well- 
known  American  sportsman  and  author,  states  that 
“the  rivers  flowing  into  Lake  Ontario  abounded  with 
them,  even  until  a recent  period,  but  the  persistent 


230 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


efforts  at  their  extinction  have  at  last  prevailed  ; and, 
except  a few  stragglers,  they  have  ceased  from  out  our 
waters.” 

Cape  Sable  being,  then,  the  south-easternmost  point 
in  the  salmon^s  rans^e,  we  first  find  him  entering  the 
rivers  of  the  south  coast  of  Xova  Scotia  Yerj  early  in 
March,  long  before  the  snow  has  left  the  woods ; thus 
disproving  an  assertion  that  he  vdll  not  ascend  a river 
till  clear  of  snow  water.  At  this  time  he  meets  the 
spent  fish,  or  kelts,  returning  from  their  dreary  residence 
under  the  ice  in  the  lakes,  and  these  gaunt,  hungry  fish 
may  be  taken  with  most  annoying  frequency  by  the 
angler  for  the  new  comers. 

As  a broad  rule,  with,  however,  some  singular  excep- 
tions, the  run  of  salmon  now  proceeds  with  tolerably 
progressive  regularity  along  the  coast  to  the  eastward 
and  northward,  the  bulk  of  the  fish  having  ascended  the 
Nova  Scotian  rivers  by  the  middle  of  June.  The  excep- 
tions referred  to  occur  in  the  case  of  a large  river  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  Nova  Scotia — the  Saint  Mary — and  some 
of  the  tributaries  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  in  which  there  is 
a run  of  fish  in  March,  as  on  the  south-eastern  coast. 
This  fact  mihtates  somewhat  against  the  theory  of  the 
salmon  migrating  in  vdnter  to  warmer  waters  to  return 
in  a body  in  early  spring  and  ascend  their  native  rivers, 
entering  them  progxessively. 

In  the  Bay  of  Chaleurs  the  season  is  somewhat  more 
delayed  ; the  fish  are  not  fairly  in  the  fresh  water  before 
the  middle  of  June,  which  is  also  the  time  for  their 
ascending  the  rivers  of  Labrador. 

At  midsummer  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  in  the  middle  of 
July  higher  up  in  tlie  gulf,  the  grilse  make  their  appear- 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


231 


ance  in  fresh  water  in  company  with  the  sea  trout. 
They  are  locally  termed  jumpers,  and  well  deserve  the 
title  from  their  liveliness  when  hooked.  With  a light 
rod  and  fine  tackle  they  afibrd  excellent  sport,  and  take 
a small  briglit,  yellowish  fly  with  great  boldness. 

The  American  salmon  spawns  very  late  in  the  fall,  not 
before  November,  and  for  this  purpose  affects  the  same 
localities  as  his  European  congener — shallow  waters  run- 
ning over  beds  of  sand  and  gravel.  The  spawning  grounds 
occur  not  only  in  the  rivers,  but  around  the  large  parent 
lakes,  at  the  entrance  of  the  little  brooks  that  feed  them 
from  the  forest,  and  where  there  are  generally  deltas 
formed  of  sand,  gravel,  and  disintegrated  granite  washed 
down  from  the  hills.  The  spent  fish,  as  a general  rule, 
though  some  return  with  the  last  freshets  of  the  year, 
remain  all  winter  under  the  ice  (particularly  if  they  have 
spawned  in  lakes  far  removed  from  the  sea),  returning 
in  the  following  spring,  when  numbers  of  them  are  taken 
by  the  settlers  fishing  for  trout  with  worm  in  pools  where 
the  runs  enter  the  lakes.  They  are  then  as  worthless  and 
slink  as  if  they  had  but  just  spawned.  In  May  the  young 
salmon,  termed  smolts,  affect  the  brackish  water  at  the 
mouth  of  rivers,  and  fall  a prey  to  juvenile  anglers  in 
immense  numbers — a practice  most  destructive  to  the 
fisheries,  as  these  little  fish  would  return  the  same  season  as 
grilse  of  three  or  four  pounds  weight.  The  salmon  of  the 
Nova  Scotian  rivers  vary  in  weight  from  seven  to  thirty 
pounds,  the  latter  weight  being  seldom  attained,  though 
a fair  proportion  of  fish  brought  to  market  are  over 
twenty  pounds.  Those  taken  in  the  St.  Mary  are  a 
larger  description  of  fish  than  the  salmon  of  the  southern 
coast.  In  the  Bay  of  Clialeurs,  in  the  Kestigouche, 


•232 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


salmon  of  forty  and  fifty  pounds  are  still  taken  ; in 
former  years,  sixty  pounds  and  over  was  not  an  uncom- 
mon weight.  The  salmon  of  the  Labrador  rivers  are 
not  remarkable  for  size  : the  average  weight  of  two  hun- 
dred fish  taken  with  the  fly  in  the  river  St.  John  in 
July,  1863,  was  ten  pounds,  the  largest  being  twenty- 
three  ; and  the  largest  salmon  ever  taken  by  the  rod  on 
this  coast  weighed  forty  pounds. 

The  average  weight  of  the  grilse  taken  in  Nova  Scotia 
and  the  Gulf  appears  to  be  four  pounds.  Fish  of  seven 
or  eight  pounds  which  I have  taken  in  American  rivers 
are,  to  my  thinking,  salmon  of  another  year’s  growth, 
and  j)resent  an  appreciable  difference  of  form  to  the  slim 
and  graceful  grilt.  In  the  latter  part  of  November,  the 
time  when  the  salmon  in  the  fresh  water  are  in  the  act 
of  spawning,  a run  of  fish  occurs  along  the  coast  of  Nova 
Scotia.  They  are  taken  at  sea  by  nets  off  the  headlands, 
and  are,  as  affirmed  by  the  fishermen,  proceeding  to  the 
southward.  Brought  to  market,  they  are  found  to  be 
nearly  all  females,  in  prime  condition,  with  the  ova 
very  small  and  in  an  undeveloped  state,  similar  to  that 
contained  in  a fish  on  its  first  entrance  into  fresh  water. 
Where  can  these  salmon  be  going  at  the  time  when  the 
rest  of  their  species  are  busily  engaged  in  reproduction  ? 
Another  of  the  many  mysteries  attached  to  the  natural 
history  of  this  noble  fish ! In  fresh  running  water  the 
salmon  takes  the  artificial  fly  or  minnow,  whether  from 
hunger  or  offence  it  does  not  clearly  appear  ; in  salt 
water  he  is  not  unfrequently  taken  on  the  coast  of  Nova 
Scotia  by  bait-fishing  at  some  distance  from  shore,  and 
in  sixty  or  seventy  fathoms  water.  The  caplin,  smelt, 
and  sand-eel,  contrilnite  to  his  food. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


233 


Dr.  Gilpin,  of  Nova  Scotia,  speaking  of  many  instances 
of  marvellous  captures  of  salmon,  tells  the  following 
authentic  story ; the  occurrence  happened  in  his  own 
time  and  neighbourhood — Annapolis  : — 

Mr.  Baillie,  grandson  of  the  ‘ Old  Frontier  Mis- 
sionary,’ was  fishing  the  General’s  Bridge  river  up  stream 
for  trout,  standing  above  his  knees  in  water,  with  an  old 
negro  named  Peter  Prince  at  his  elbow.  In  the  very  act 
of  casting  a trout  fly  he  saw,  as  is  very  usual  for  them,  a 
large  salmon  lingering  in  a deep  hole  a few  yards  from 
him.  The  sun  favoured  him,  throwing  his  shadow  behind. 
To  remain  motionless,  to  pull  out  a spare  hook  and  pen- 
knife, and  with  a bit  of  his  old  hat  and  some  of  the  grey 
old  negro’s  wool  to  make  a salmon  fly  then  and  there,  he 
and  the  negro  standing  in  the  running  stream  like  statues, 
and  presently  to  land  a fine  salmon,  was  the  work  of  but 
a few  moments.  This  fly  must  have  been  the  original  of 
Norris’s  killing  ‘ silver  grey.’” 


THE  EIVERS  OF  NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE 

GULF. 

Eivers  and  streams  of  varying  dimensions,  but  nearly 
all  accessible  to  salmon,  succeed  each  other  with  wonder- 
ful frequency  throughout  the  whole  Atlantic  Sea-board  of 
Nova  Scotia.  In  former  years,  when  they  were  all  open 
to  the  ascent  of  migratory  fish,  the  amount  of  piscine 
wealth  represented  by  them  was  incalculable.  The 
salmon  literally  swarmed  along  the  coast.  Their  only 
enemy  was  the  spear  of  the  native  Indian  ; and  the 
earlier  annals  of  the  province  show  the  prevalence  of  a 


234 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


custom  with  regard  to  the  hiring  of  labourers  similar  to 
that  once  existing  in  some  parts  of  England — a stipulation 
that  not  more  than  a certain  proportion  of  salmon  should 
enter  into  their  diet.  Now,  the  salmon  having  passed  the 
ordeal  of  bag-nets,  with  wdiich  the  shores  of  the  long 
harbours  are  studded,  and  arrived  in  the  fresh  water, 
vainly  loiters  in  the  pool  below  the  monstrous  wooden 
structure  called  a mill-dam,  which  effectively  debars  his 
progress  to  his  ancestors’  domains  in  the  parent  lakes, 
and  before  long  falls  a prey  to  the  spear  or  scoop-net  of 
the  miller.  From  wretchedly  inefficient  legislation  the 
salmon  of  Nova  Scotia  is  on  the  verge  of  extinction, 
with  the  gaspereaux  and  other  migratory  fish,  which 
once  rendered  the  immense  extent  of  fresh  water  of 
this  country  a source  of  wealth  to  the  province  and  of 
incalculable  benefit  to  the  poor  settler  of  the  backwoods, 
whose  barrels  of  pickled  fish  were  his  great  stand-by  for 
winter  consumption. 

One  of  the  noblest  streams  of  the  Nova  Scotian 
coast  is  the  Liverpool  river,  in  Queen’s  County,  which 
connects  with  the  largest  sheet  of  fresh  water  in  the 
province.  Lake  Kossignol,  whence  streams  and  brooks 
innumerable  extend  in  all  directions  through  the  wild 
interior,  nearly  crossing  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  All 
these  once  fruitful  waters  are  now  a barren  waste.  The 
salmon  and  gaspereaux  are  debarred  from  ascent  at  the 
head  of  the  tide,  where  a series  of  utterly  impracti- 
cable mill-dams  oppose  their  progress  to  their  spawning- 
grounds.  A pitiful  half  dozen  barrels  of  salmon  taken 
at  the  mouth  is  now  shown  against  a former  yearly 
take  of  two  thousand. 

A few  miles  to  the  eastward  we  come  to  the  Port 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


235 


Medway  river,  nearly  as  large  as  the  preceding,  which, 
not  being  so  completely  closed  against  the  salmon,  still 
affords  good  sport  in  the  beginning  of  the  season,  in 
April  and  May.  This  is  the  furthest  river  westwardly 
from  the  capital  of  the  province — Halifax — to  which  the 
attention  of  the  fly-fisher  is  directed.  There  are  some 
excellent  pools  near  the  sea,  and  at  its  outlet  from  the 
lakes,  twenty  miles  above.  The  fish  are  large,  and  have 
been  taken  with  the  fly  in  the  latter  part  of  March. 
The  logs  going  down  the  stream  are,  however,  a great 
hindrance  to  fishing. 

Proceeding  to  the  eastward,  the  next  noticeable 
salmon  river  is  the  La  Have,  the  scenery  on  which  is 
of  the  Vost  picturesque  description.  There  are  some 
excellent  pools  below  the  first  falls.  The  run  of  fish  is 
rather  later  than  at  Port  Medway,  or  at  Gold  Eiver, 
which  is  further  east.  On  the  4th  of  May,  when  excel- 
lent sport  was  being  obtained  in  these  waters,  I have 
found  no  salmon  running  in  the  La  Have.  About  the 
10th  of  May  appears  to  be  the  beginning  of  its 
season. 

We  next  come  to  Mahone  Bay,  an  expansive  indenta- 
tion of  the  coast,  studded  with  islands,  noted  for  its 
charms  of  scenery,  and  likewise  commendable  to  the 
visitor  in  search  of  salmon-fishing.  About  six  miles 
west  of  the  little  town  of  Chester,  which  stands  at  its 
head,  is  the  mouth  of  Gold  Eiver.  Until  very  re- 
cently this  was  the  favourite  resort  of  sportsmen  on 
the  western  shore.  Its  well-defined  pools  and  easy  stands 
for  casting  added  to  its  inducements ; and  a throng  of  fish 
ascended  it  from  the  middle  of  April  to  the  same  time 
in  May.  The  increase  of  sporting  propensities  amongst 


233 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


tlie  rising  generation  of  tlie  neighbouring  villages  proves 
of  late  years  a great  drawback  to  the  chances  of  the 
visitor.  The  pools  are  continually  occupied  by  clumsy 
and  undiscerning  loafers,  who  infest  the  river  to  the 
detriment  of  sport,  and  do  not  scruple  to  come  alongside 
and  literally  throw  across  your  line.  Though  dear  old 
Isaac  might  not  possibly  object  to  rival  floats  a yard 
apart,  another  salmon-fly  careering  in  the  same  pool  is 
not  to  be  endured,  and  of  course  spoils  sport.  Still, 
however,  without  such  interruptions,  fair  fishing  may  be 
obtained  here,  and  a dozen  fish  of  ten  to  twenty  pounds 
taken  by  a rod  on  a good  day.  Excessive  netting  in 
the  salt  water  is,  however,  fast  destroying  all  prospects  of 
sport  here  as  elsewhere. 

There  are  two  fair  sized  salmon  rivers  entering  the 
next  harbour,  Margaret’s  Bay,  which,  being  the  nearest 
to  the  capital  of  the  province,  are  over-fished.  With  the 
exception  of  a pretty  little  stream,  called  the  Nine-mile 
Kiver,  which  is  recovering  itself  under  the  protection  of 
the  Game  and  Fish  Preservation  Society,  these  conclude 
the  list  of  the  western-shore  rivers  of  Nova  Scotia. 

The  fishing  along  this  shore  is  quite  easy  of  access  by 
the  mail-coach  from  Halifax,  which  jolts  somewhat 
roughly  three  times  a week  over  the  rocks  and  fir- 
pole  bridges  of  the  shore-road  through  pretty  scenery, 
frequently  emerging  from  the  woods,  and  skirting  the 
bright  dancing  waters  of  Margarets  Bay  and  Chester 
Basin.  The  woodland  part  of  a journey  in  Nova  Scotia 
is  dreary  enough ; the  dense  thickets  of  firs  on  either  side 
being  only  enlivened  by  an  occasional  clearing  with  its 
melancholy  tenement  and  crazy  wooden  out-buildings,  and 
by  the  tall  unbarked  spruce-poles  stuck  in  a swamp  or 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


237 


held  up  by  piles  of  rocks  at  their  base,  supporting  the 
single  wire  along  which  messages  are  conveyed  through 
the  province  touching  the  latest  prices  afloat  of  mackerel, 
cod-fish,  or  salt,  on  the  magnetic  system  of  Morse. 

Indian  guides  to  the  pools,  who  are  adepts  at  camp- 
keeping,  canoeing,  and  gaffing  the  fish  for  you,  as  well  as 
at  doing  a little  stroke  of  business  for  themselves,  when 
opportunities  occur,  with  the  forbidden  and  murderous 
spear,  reside  at  the  mouths  of  most  of  these  rivers.  Their 
usual  charge,  as  for  hunting  in  the  woods,  is  a dollar  per 
diem. 

The  flies  for  the  western  rivers  of  Nova  Scotia  are  of 
a larger  make  than  those  used  in  New  Brunswick  and 
Canada,  owing  to  the  turbidity  of  the  water  at  the  season 
when  the  best  fishing  is  to  be  obtained.  They  may  be  pro- 
cured in  several  stores  in  Halifax,  where  one  Connell  ties 
them  in  a superior  style,  and  will  forward  them  to  order 
anywhere  in  the  provinces  or  in  Canada.  A claret-bodied 
(pig  s wool  or  mohair)  with  a dark  mixed  wing  is  good 
for  the  La  Have.  Green  and  grey  are  good  colours  for 
Gold  Eiver.  With  the  grey  body  silver  tinsel  should 
be  used,  and  wood-duck  introduced  into  the  wing.  An 
olive  body  is  also  good.  There  is  no  feather  that  sets  off 
a wing  better  than  wood-duck.  It  is  in  my  estimation 
more  tempting  to  fish  than  the  golden  pheasant  tippet 
feather.  Its  broad  bars  of  rich  velvety  black  and  purest 
white  give  a peculiarly  attractive  and  soft  moth-like 
appearance  to  the  wing. 

The  harbour  of  Halifax,  nearly  twelve  miles  in 
length,  has  but  one  stream,  and  that  of  inconsiderable 
dimensions,  emptying  into  it.  The  little  Sackville  river 
was,  however,  once  a stream  affording  capital  sport  at 


238 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Midsummer,  its  season  being  announced,  as  the  old 
fisherman  who  lived  on  it  and  by  it,  generally  known 
as  Old  HojDewell,”  told  me,  by  the  arrival  of  the  fire- 
flies. He  has  taken  nineteen  salmon,  of  from  eight  to 
eighteen  pounds  weight,  in  one  morning  with  the  fly. 
It  offers  no  sport  to  speak  of  now  ; the  saw  mills  and 
their  obstructive  dams  have  quite  cut  off  the  fish  from 
their  spawning  grounds. 

To  the  eastward,  between  Halifax  and  Cape  Canseau, 
occurs  a succession  of  fine  rivers,  running  through  the 
most  extensive  forest  district  in  the  province.  The 
salmon  rivers  of  note  are  the  Musquodoboit,  Tangier 
river,  the  Sheet  Harbour  rivers,  and  the  St.  Mary’s. 
There  are  no  important  settlements  on  the  sea-coast, 
which  is  very  wild  and  rugged  to  the  east  of  Hahfax, 
and  consequently  they  are  less  looked  after  and  more 
poached.  Formerly  they  teemed  with  salmon.  Besides 
the  mill-dams,  they  are  netted  right  across,  and  the  pools 
are  swept  and  torched  without  mercy  by  settlers  and 
Indians.  The  St.  Mary’s  is  the  noblest  and  most  beau- 
tiful river  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  its  salmon  are  the  largest. 
The  nets  overlap  one  another  from  either  shore  through- 
out the  long  reaches  of  inter^^ale  and  wild  meadow, 
dotted  with  groups  of  elm,  which  constitute  its  noted 
scenic  charms,  and  the  lumbermen  vie  with  the  Indians 
in  skill  in  their  nightly  spearing  expeditions  by  the  light 
of  blazing  birch-bark  torches. 

There  are  many  other  fine  rivers  besides  those  men- 
tioned discharging  into  the  Atlantic,  which  the  salmon 
has  long  ceased  to  frequent,  being  completely  shut  out, 
and  which  would  swell  the  dreary  record  of  the  ruin  of  the 
inland  fisheries  of  Nova  Scotia.  In  these  waters,  at  a 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


239 


distance  from  the  capital,  Halifax  law,”  as  the  settlers 
will  tell  you,  is  “no  account.”  The  spirit  of  wanton 
extermination  is  rife  ; and,  as  it  has  been  well  remarked, 
it  really  seems  as  though  the  man  would  be  loudly 
applauded  who  was  discovered  to  have  killed  the  last 
salmon. 

Salmon  are  abundant  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  which 
washes  a large  portion  of  Nova  Scotia,  but  its  rivers 
are  generally  ill  adapted  for  sport.  Eunning  through 
flat  alluvial  lands,  and  turbid  with  the  red  mud,  or 
rather,  fine  sand,  of  the  Bay  shores,  they  are  generally 
characterised  by  an  absence  of  good  stands  and  salmon 
pools.  The  Annapolis  river  was  once  famous  for 
salmon  fishing.  On  its  tributary,  the  Nictaux,  twenty 
or  thirty  might  be  taken  with  the  fly  in  an  after- 
noon ; and  the  Gaspereau,  a very  picturesque  stream 
entering  the  Basin  of  Minas  at  Grand  Pre,  the  once 
happy  valley  of  the  French  Acadians,  still  affords  fair 
sport. 

We  will  now  turn  to  the  rivers  of  the  Gulf  which 
enter  it  from  the  mainland  on  the  shores  of  New  Bruns- 
wick, Lower  Canada,  and  Labrador,  commencing  with 
those  of  the  former  province. 

Proceeding  along  the  eastern  shore  of  New  Brunswick 
from  its  junction  with  Nova  Scotia,  we  pass  several  fine 
streams  with  picturesque  scenery  and  strange  Indian 
names,  which,  once  teeming  with  fish,  now  scarcely  afibrd 
the  resident  settler  an  annual  taste  of  the  flesh  of  salmon. 
The  Miramichi,  however,  arrests  our  attention  as  being 
a noble  river ; its  yield  and  exportation  of  salmon  is 
still  very  large.  Winding  sluggishly  through  a beautiful 
and  highly  cultivated  valley  for  nearly  one  hundred 


240 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


miles  from  the  Atlantic,  the  first  rapids  and  pools  where 
fly-fishing  may  be  practised  occur  in  the  \ficinity  of 
Boiestown ; here  the  sport  afforded,  in  a good  season,  is 
little  inferior  to  that  which  may  be  obtained  on  the 
Nepisiguit.  One  of  its  branches,  also,  the  north-west 
Miramichi,  is  worth  a visit ; and  I have  known  some 
excellent  sport  obtained  on  it  in  passing  through  to  the 
Nepisiguit,  from  which  river  the  water  communication 
for  a canoe  is  interrupted  but  by  a short  portage  through 
the  forest. 

It  is,  however,  on  entering  the  southern  expanses  of 
the  beautiful  Bay  of  Chaleurs  that  we  first  find  the 
paradise  of  the  salmon-fisher ; and  here  still,  despite 
of  many  foes — innumerable  stake-nets  which  debar  his 
entrance,  the  sweeping  seine  in  the  fresh  water,  the  torch 
and  spear  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  lastly,  and  perhaps 
the  least  destructive  agent,  the  tackle  of  the  fly-fisher- 
man— the  bright  foamy  waters  of  the  Nepisiguit,  the 
Kestigouche,  the  Metapediac,  and  many  others,  repay  the 
visitor  and  sportsman,  whence  or  how  far  soever  he  may 
have  come,  by  the  sport  which  they  afford,  and  by  the 
wild  scenery  which  surrounds  their  long  course  through 
the  forests  of  New  Brunswick. 

And,  first,  of  the  Nepisiguit.  This  now  famous  river, 
which  of  late  years  has  attracted  from  their  homes 
many  visitors,  both  English  and  American,  to  spend  a 
few  weeks  in  fishing  and  pleasantly  camping-out  on  its 
banks,  discharges  its  waters  into  the  Bale  des  Chaleurs 
at  Bathurst,  a small  neat  town,  easily  accessible  from 
either  Halifax,  St.  John,  or  Quebec,  and  by  various 
modes  of  conveyance — coach,  rail,  and  steamboat.  Eising 
ill  the  centre  of  northern  New  Brunswick,  in  an  elevated 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


241 


lake  region  Avkich  gives  birth  to  the  Tobique  and  Upsal- 
quitch,  rivers  of  about  equal  size,  the  Nepisiguit  has  an 
eastward  course  of  nearly  one  hundred  miles  through 
a Avilderness  country,  Avhere  not  even  a solitary  Indian 
camp  may  be  met  with.  It  is  one  of  the  wildest  of 
American  rivers ; sometimes  contracted  between  cliffs 
to  the  breadth  of  a fcAV  yards,  coursing  sullenly  and 
darkly  below  overhanging  forests,  and  sometimes,  though 
rarely,  expanding  into  broad  reaches  of  smoothly-gliding 
water — its  most  common  feature  is  the  ever-recurring 
cascade  and  rapid. 

The  adventurous  fisherman  will  do  well  to  supplement 
his  sport  on  the  river  by  embarking  on  a long  journey 
through  the  solitudes  of  the  interior  to  its  parent  lakes. 
A short  portage  of  a couple  of  miles,  and  the  canoe 
floats  on  the  Tobique  lakes,  and  thence  descends  the 
Tobique  through  another  hundred  miles  of  the  wildest 
and  most  beautiful  scenery  imaginable.  At  the  junction 
of  this  latter  river  with  the  broad  expanse  of  the  upper 
St.  John,  civilisation  reappears  ; the  traveller  changes  his 
conveyance  for  the  steamer  or  coach,  and  the  frail  canoe 
returns,  with  her  hardy  and  skilful  sons  of  the  river,  to 
battle  with  the  rocks  and  rapids  of  the  toilsome  route. 

The  whole  of  this  tour  is,  however,  fraught  Avith 
interest  to  the  sportsman  and  lover  of  wild  scenery. 
Moose,  cariboo,  and  bear  are  inA^ariably  met  with ; the 
tAvo  former  being  generally  seen  bathing  in  the  water 
in  the  evenings,  whilst  a Ausit  from  a bear  at  night  is 
by  no  means  an  uncommon  occurrence  at  some  camp  or 
another  on  the  way  ; or,  perchance.  Bruin  may  be  sur- 
prised Avhen  gorging  in  the  early  morning,  breakfasting 

amongst  the  great  thickets  of  wild  raspberries  which 

11 


242 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


abound  on  tlie  banks.  A little  searcli  up  tbe  tributary 
brooks  will  discover  the  wonderful  works  of  beaver  now 
in  progress  ; and  other  frequenters  of  the  river,  mink, 
otters,  and  musquash,  are  plentiful,  and  frequently  to 
be  seen.  In  July  and  August  the  young  flappers  of 
many  species  of  duck  form  an  agreeable  change  in  the 
daily  bill  of  fare  ; and  though  salmon  do  not  ascend  the 
Nepisiguit  beyond  the  Grand  Falls,  twenty-one  miles 
from  Bathurst,  they  may  be  taken  at  the  head  waters 
of  the  Tobique ; whilst  river  trout  of  large  size,  and 
affording  excellent  sport,  will  greedily  rise  at  an  almost 
bare  hook  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  water. 

Eeclining  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  the  position  of 
the  traveller  is  most  comfortable,  and  he  may  make 
notes  or  sketches,  as  fancy  leads  him,  with  ease ; indeed, 
from  the  facility  vdth  which  all  necessaries  and  even 
luxuries  may  be  conveyed,  but  little  hardship  need  be 
anticipated  in  a canoe  voyage  through  the  rivers  of 
northern  New  Brunswick. 

The  length  of  the  journey  just  described  much 
depends  on  the  state  of  the  water  and  the  number  of 
the  party.  With  good  water  a canoe  will  get  through 
with  two  sportsmen,  two  canoe  men,  and  all  their  goods 
— camps,  blankets,  and  provisions — in  ten  or  twelve 
days  ; but  should  the  rivers  be  low,  two  canoes  must 
be  employed  by  the  same  number.  A few  years  since  I 
took  a still  more  northern  route  to  the  upper  St.  John, 
vid  the  Eestigouche  and  Grand  Eiver ; the  head- waters 
were  so  shallow  that  we  literally  had  to  drag  our  canoe, 
fixed  on  long  protecting  slabs  of  cedar,  for  some  days 
over  the  rocky  bed ; we  were,  moreover,  nearly  starved, 
and  occupied  nearly  three  weeks  in  reaching  Fredericton 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


243 


on  the  St.  John,  down  whose  broad,  deep  stream,  how- 
ever, we  paddled  at  the  rate  of  fifty  miles  a day. 

The  scenery  on  this  line  of  water-communication  with 
the  St.  John  is  grander,  but  not  so  wild  as  on  the  former 
route,  which  I recommend  as  possessing  many  advan- 
tages, particularly  in  the  way  of  sport. 

Mais  revenons  d nos  saumons — to  describe  the  capa- 
bilities of  the  Nepisiguit  to  afford  sport  to  the  salmon- 
fisher,  and  direct  the  visitor.  The  ascent  of  salmon 
in  this  river  is  restricted  to  twenty-one  miles  of  water 
by  an  insuperable  barrier — the  Grand  Falls  ; but  from 
the  head  of  the  tide,  two  miles  above  the  town,  to  this 
point,  are  a succession  of  beautiful  pools  with  every 
variety  of  water,  so  stocked  with  fish,  and  with  such 
picturesque  surrounding  scenery,  that  the  eye  of  the 
sportsman  who  may  happily  combine  the  love  of  nature 
with  the  lust  of  sport  drinks  in  constant  and  ever- 
varying  delight  as  he  is  introduced  to  these  bewitching 
spots.  And  now  of  the  pools  seriatim. 

Two  miles  above  Bathurst  we  come  to  the  Kough 
Waters,”  where  there  is  good  fishing.  No  camp  is 
needed  here  ; for  it  is  so  near  the  accommodation  of  a 
comfortable  hotel,  that  I question  whether  any  one  would 
care  to  experiment,  except  for  novelty.  It  is  a pretty 
spot,  and  the  dark  water  here  and  there  breaks  into  pure 
white  foam  as  it  passes  over  a ledge  which  crosses  the 
channel  from  the  steep  red  sandstone  cliffs  opposite.  A 
short  distance  above  are  the  Bound  Bocks,”  with  little 
falls  and  intervening  pools,  where  the  river  begins  to 
show  its  true  character  ; and  here,  as  at  the  last-men- 
tioned spot,  a good  day's  fishing  may  be  obtained  from 
the  town.  But  one  is  now-a-days  liable  to  interference, 


244 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


however,  for  of  late  years  the  little  ragged  urchins  from 
the  Acadian  settlement  on  the  south  shore  have  imbibed 
a strong  love  of  sport  in  addition  to  their  hereditary 
poaching  propensities,  and  with  a rough  pole,  a few 
yards  of  coarse  line,  and  a bait  in  appearance  anything 
but  a salmon  fly,  they  will  hook  some  dozen  or  more 
salmon  in  a day  when  they  are  running  freely,  of 
course  losing  nearly  every  fish. 

Distant  eight  miles  from  Bathurst,  and  accessible  by 
a fair  Avaggon  road,  are  the  Pabineau  Falls,  one  of  the 
choicest  fishing  stations  on  the  river.  The  scenery  here 
is  most  beautiful ; the  forest  has  now  claimed  the  banks, 
and,  as  the  stranger  emerges  from  its  shade,  and  stands 
on  the  broad,  smooth  expanses  of  light  grey  and  pink 
rocks  which  slope  from  him  toAvards  the  brink  of  the 
stream,  AueAAdng  its  clear  grass-green  waters  rolling  in 
such  fierce  undulations  over  long  descents,  and  thun- 
dering, enveloped  in  mist,  tlmough  various  contracted 
passes  into  boiling  pools,  Avith  congregated  masses  of 
foam  ever  circling  over  their  black  depths,  he  becomes 
impressed  Avith  the  idea  of  irresistible  poAver,  and  is 
constrained  to  acknoAvledge  that  he  stands  in  the  jDre- 
sence  of  no  ordinary  stream,  but  of  a mighty  river. 

I have  here  stood  by  the  margin  of  the  Avater,  Avhere 
hundreds  of  tons  momentarily  rushed  past  my  feet  in 
a compact  mass,  and  Avatched  the  bright  gleam  of  the 
salmon  as  they  Avould  dart  up  from  beloAV  hke  arroAvs  to 
encounter  the  fall ; a slight  pause  as  they  near  the  head ; 
another  convulsive  effort,  and  they  are  safely  over ; but 
many  fall  back,  at  present  uu  equal  for  the  contest,  into 
the  dark  pool. 

There  are  several  Avell-built  bark  shanties  on  the  rocks 


THE  PABINEAU  FALLS,  RIVER  NEPISIGUIT. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


245 


above  the  falls,  for  the  fine  scenery,  and  the  ease  with 
which  the  numerous  pools  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Pabineau  can  be  fished,  have  made  this  a favourite  haunt 
for  anglers. 

Two  miles  above  are  the  Beeterbox  Pools,  where  there 
is  some  swift,  deep  water  at  a curve  in  the  river,  and  at 
the  foot  of  a long  reach  of  rapids.  It  is  a very  good 
station  to  fish,  en  passant,  but  not  of  sufficient  extent  to 
induce  more  than  an  occasional  visit. 

Mid-landing  is  the  next  spot  where  good  sport  may 
be  obtained,  particularly  at  the  end  of  July,  when  the 
river  becomes  low.  The  great  depths  of  water  here, 
shaded  by  high  rocks,  induce  large  fish  to  remain  long  in 
these  cool  retreats.  Very  small,  dark  flies,  and  the  most 
transparent  gut  must  be  used ; and  with  these  pre- 
cautions, when  other  pools  have  been  failing  in  a dry 
season,  I have  taken  half  a dozen  salmon  a day  from  the 
deep  waters  of  Mid-landing,  and  from  the  long,  rough 
rapid  which  runs  into  the  pool. 

Three  miles  above  are  the  “ Chains  of  Pocks,”  the 
great  and  the  little.  A camp  below  the  last  fall  of  the 
lower  chain  will  command  all  the  pools.  This  range  of 
pools  contains  an  abundance  of  fish.  Below  the  fall  is  a 
long  expanse  of  smooth  water,  at  the  head  of  which 
salmon  congregate  in  great  numbers  preparatory  to 
ascending  the  rough  water  above  ; they  lie  in  several 
deep,  eddying  pools,  where  projecting  ledges  narrow  the 
channel,  and  may  be  seen  flinging  themselves  out  of 
water  throughout  the  day.  Above  this  long  series  of 
cascades  which  fall  over  terraces  of  dark  rocks,  for 
nearly  half  a mile,  there  is  some  evenly-gliding  water, 
in  which  fish  may  be  taken  from  stands  on  the  left 


246 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


bank.  Here,  and  at  the  little  chain  just  above,  is 
my  favourite  resort  at  this  part  of  the  river  ; there  is 
excellent  camping-ground  in  the  tall  fir-woods  on  the 
north  shore,  and  bold  jutting  rocks  command  the  pools 
admirably. 

Between  this  spot  and  the  Basin,  two  miles  above, 
there  are  but  few  spots  where  the  fly  may  be  cast  pro- 
fitably ; and,  taking  the  bush-path  which  skirts  the  river, 
we  may  now  shoulder  our  rods,  and  trudge  up  to  the 
Grand  Falls,  our  canoes  following,  spurting  through  the 
rapid  water  in  long  strides  as  they  are  impelled  by  the 
vigorous  thrusts  of  the  long  iron-shod  fir-poles.  The 
Basin  is  a broad  and  deep  expansion  of  the  river,  and  a 
reservoir  where  the  salmon  conoTegate  in  multitudes, 
ultimately  spawning  at  the  entrance  of  numerous  gravelly 
brooks  which  flow  into  it  from  the  surrounding  forest, 
and  daily  making  sorties  to  the  Falls,  a mile  above,  to 
enjoy  the  cool  water  which  flows  thence  to  the  lake 
between  tall,  overhanging  cliffs,  sometimes  completely 
shaded  from  the  sunlight  save  during  a very  limited 
portion  of  the  day. 

In  this  mile  of  deep  swift  water,  wliich  winds  in  a 
dark  thread  from  the  Basin  to  the  foot  of  the  falls 
between  lofty  walls  of  slate  rock,  salmon  lie  during  the 
day  in  thousands  ; there  are  certam  spots  which  they 
prefer,  found  by  experience  to  be  the  best  pools,  where 
the  splash  of  the  fish  and  the  voice  of  the  angler  awaken 
echoes  from  the  cliffs  throughout  the  season.  Fine 
fishing,  and  fine  tackle  for  these — aye,  and  a good 
temper,  too — for  it  is  the  most  favoured  resort  for  rods, 
and  we  may  often  be  compelled  to  cease  awhile  from  our 
sport,  whilst  a canoe  (here  the  only  mode  of  conveyance 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


247 


from  pool  to  pool)  with  its  scarlet-shirted  paddlers, 
creeps  through  the  water  by  the  opposite  shore. 

There  are  but  one  or  two  places  in  the  cliffs  here 
where  a camp  may  be  pitched,  and,  if  these  are  occupied, 
we  must  drop  down-stream  again  to  some  less-frequented 
locality.  The  best  of  these  is  a green  sloping  bank,  over 
which  a cool  brook  courses  between  copses  of  hazel  and 
alder  into  the  river  below.  It  is  a charming  situation, 
and  from  a grassy  plateau  overhanging  the  river,  where 
the  camps  are  usually  placed,  we  may  look  down  into  a 
clear  pool,  some  seventy  feet  below,  and  watch  the 
salmon  which  occupy  it,  dressed  in  distinct  ranks. 

The  Grand  Falls  are  rather  more  than  100  feet  in 
height.  The  river,  here  greatly  contracted,  descends 
into  a deep  boiling  pool,  first  by  a succession  of  headlong 
tumbles,  and  then  in  a compact  and  perpendicular  fall  of 
forty  feet.  The  first  fishing  pool  is  just  below  the 
eddying  basin  at  the  foot  of  the  fall,  which  is  seldom 
entered  by  the  canoe  men,  as  currents  both  of  air 
and  water  sweep  round  it  towards  the  pitch ; besides, 
the  fish  here  are  so  engaged  in  battling  with  the  heaving 
water,  in  their  vain  attempts  to  surmount  the  falls,  that 
they  wiU  not  regard  the  fly. 

All  this  portion  of  the  Nepisiguit  must  be  fished  from 
a canoe,  excepting  a few  rocky  stands,  where  almost 
every  cast  is  made  at  the  risk  of  the  hook  snapping 
against  the  cliffs  behind  ; and  this  leads  us  to  say  a few 
words  on  the  canoe  men  of  the  river.  They  are  a hardy 
and  generally  intelligent  race  of  Acadian-French,  appa- 
rently a good  deal  crossed  with  Indian  blood,  exceedingly 
skilful  in  managing  their  bark  canoes,  and  in  getting 
fish  for  the  sportsman;  they  have  great  experience  in 


248 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


the  requirements  of  a camp  in  the  woods,  and  are, 
withal,  very  merry,  companionable  fellows.  For  a 
fishing  camp  anywhere  above  the  Pabineau,  a canoe  and 
three  men  (one  to  act  as  cook  and  camp-keeper),  are 
indispensable ; and  on  arriving  at  Bathurst,  the  services 
of  any  of  the  following  men  of  good  character  should  be 
secured  : The  Chamberlains,  the  Yineaus,  David  Buchet? 
Joe  Young,  and  others;  Baldwin,  the  landlord  of  the 
little  hotel,  knows  them  all  well.  Their  wages  are  a 
dollar  a day  for  the  canoe  men  ; the  cook  may  be  hired 
for  half  a dollar,  but  he  will  grumble,  and  most  likely 
succeed  in  getting  three  shillings.  If  a voyage  through 
to  the  St.  John,  via  the  Nictaux  and  Tobique  lakes,  be 
contemplated,  selection  should  be  made  of  those  men 
who  have  taken  parties  through  l^efore.  All  provisions 
necessary  for  a sojourn  on  the  river — everything,  from 
an  excellent  ham  to  a tin  of  the  best  chocolate — are  to 
be  had  at  the  store  of  Messrs.  Ferguson,  Eankin,  and  Co., 
in  Bathurst,  obliging  people,  very  moderate  and  liberal ; 
they  will  deduct  for  all  the  cooking  utensils,  supplied 
by  them,  which  may  be  returned  on  coming  down  the 
river. 

Notwithstanding  the  immense  destruction  of  fish  in 
the  Nepisiguit  in  every  possible  way — netting  and 
torching  in  fresh  water,  whenever  the  nature  of  the 
stream  allows  of  such  proceedings,  wholesale  sweeping 
and  spearing  on  their  spawning  beds  by  tribes  of  Indians, 
even  into  the  month  of  November,  when  they  are  quite 
black  and  slimy,  extensive  netting  at  its  mouth,  and 
the  number  taken  by  fly-fishers — even  yet  the  river 
swarms  with  salmon ; a favourable  condition  of  the 
water  and  the  command  of  a few  pools  will  insure  good 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


249 


sport.  The  fish  are  not  very  large,  as  in  the  more 
northern  rivers  of  the  bay ; the  average  of  the  weights, 
of  seventy  salmon  killed  by  one  rod  at  the  Grand  Falls 
a few  seasons  since,  was  11  lb.  8oz. ; and  of  thirty 
grilse,  4lb.  The  fish  commence  running  up  in  June,  but, 
from  the  height  of  the  water,  there  is  rarely  good  fishing 
before  July;  the  10th  is  about  the  best  time,  and  by 
that  time  they  have  gone  up  as  high  as  the  Grand  Falls. 
The  flies  for  the  Nepisiguit  should  be  small  and  neat, 
and  of  three  sizes  to  each  pattern,  for  different  states  of 
water.  As  mistakes  are  often  made  from  the  different 
mode  of  numbering  by  different  makers,  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  the  length  of  the  medium  fly  should  be 
l-|in.  from  the  point  of  the  shank  to  the  extreme  bend, 
measuring  diagonally  across.  The  patterns  should  be 
generally  dark,  and  all  mixed  wings  should  be  as  modest 
as  possible ; no  gaudy  contrasts  of  colour,  as  used  in 
Norway  or  Scotland,  will  do  here.  A dark  fly,  tied  as 
follows,  is  a great  favourite : body  of  black  mohair, 
ribbed  with  fine  gold  thread,  black  hackle,  very  dark 
mallard  wing,  a narrow  tip  of  orange  silk,  and  a very 
small  feather  from  the  crest  of  golden  pheasant  for  a 
tail.  Then  I like  a rich  claret  body  with  dark  mixed 
wins:  and  tail,  claret  hackle,  and  a few  fibres  of  English 
jay  in  the  shoulder.  Small  grey-bodied  flies  ribbed  with 
silver,  grey  legs,  and  wing  mixed  with  wood-duck  and 
golden  pheasant,  will  do  well.  Many  other  and  brighter 
flies  may  be  nsed  in  the  rough  water,  and  a primrose 
l)ody,  with  IJack  head  and  tip,  and  butterfly  wing  of 
golden  pheasant,  will  prove  very  tempting  to  grilse, 
which,  late  in  July,  may  be  taken  in  any  number  in 
many  parts  of  the  river,  particularly  at  the  Pabineau 


250 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


and  Chain  of  Eocks.  These  flies  will  do  anywhere  in 
New  Brunswick. 

At  the  head  of  the  Bay  of  Chaleurs,  and  about  fifty 
miles  from  Bathurst,  we  come  to  the  Eestigouche,  one  of 
the  largest  rivers  of  British  North  America,  220  miles  in 
length,  and  formerly  teeming  with  salmon  from  the  sea 
to  its  upper  waters.  So  abundant  were  the  fish  some 
twenty-five  years  ago,  that  Mr.  Perley,  Her  Majesty’s 
Commissioner  for  the  Fisheries,  states  that  3000  barrels 
were  shipped  annually  from  this  river,  and  in  those  days 
salmon  of  60lb.  weight  were  not  uncommon.  Of  late 
years  there  has  been  a sad  falling^off,  and  instead  of 
eleven  salmon  going  to  a barrel  of  2001b.,  more  than 
twice  the  number  must  now  be  used.  Unfortunately  for 
the  preservation  of  the  fish,  and  the  prospects  of  the  fly- 
fisher,  the  character  of  this  beautiful  river  is  very  different 
to  that  of  the  Nepisiguit.  For  100  miles  the  Eestigouche 
runs  in  a narrow  valley  between  wooded  mountains  with 
an  almost  unvarying  rapid  current,  with  but  few  deep 
pools  and  no  falls.  Hence  the  chances  of  rod-fishing  are 
greatly  diminished,  whilst  settlers  and  Indians  torch  and 
spear  everywhere.  The  channel  is  much  used  by  the 
lumberers  for  the  water-conveyance  of  provisions  to  the 
gangs  employed  in  the  woods  at  its  head-waters — scows 
(be.,  large  flat-bottomed  barges)  being  employed,  drawn 
by  teams  of  horses  which  find  a natural  tow-path  in  its 
shingly  beaches  by  the  edge  of  the  forest.  High  up  the 
river  there  are  many  rifts  and  sand-beaches,  partly 
exposed  in  a dry  season,  through  which  the  channel 
winds  ; and  the  scow  is  often  di*agged  through  shallow 
places,  thus  ploughing  up  the  spawning  grounds  of  the 
salmon. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


251 


A few  years  since,  after  a fortnight’s  fishing  on  the 
Nepisiguit,  during  which  my  companion  and  myself 
took  eighty  salmon,  notwithstanding  an  unprecedented 
drought,  we  visited  the  Eestigouche,  more  for  the  sake 
of  enjoying  its  fine  scenery  than  expecting  sport.  Stay- 
ing for  a day,  however,  at  the  house  of  a hospitable 
farmer  who  dwelt  by  the  river-side,  at  the  junction  of 
the  Matapediac  with  the  main  stream,  I had  the  plea- 
sure of  hooking  the  first  salmon  ever  taken  with  a fly 
in  the  Eestigouche  water,  a fine  clean  fish  of  twelve 
pounds.  In  an  hours  fishing  I had  taken  three  salmon, 
each  differently  shaped,  and  at  once  pronounced  by  my 
host  to  be  frequenters  of  three  separate  rivers  which 
here  unite — the  two  abeady  mentioned  and  the  Upsal- 
quitch. 

The  Matapediac  has  a course  of  sixty  miles  from 
a large  lake  in  Eimouski,  Lower  Canada,  and  the  Upsal- 
quitch  runs  in  on  the  New  Brunswick  side.  They  are 
both  fine  rivers,  and  ascended  by  salmon  in  large 
numbers  ; the  latter  is  stated  to  be  very  like  the  Ne- 
pisiguit  in  character — full  of  falls  and  rapids,  and  I 
believe  it  would  afford  equal  sport.  It  looked  most 
tempting  as  we  passed  its  mouth  on  our  long  canoe 
voyage  up  the  main  river,  but  we  had  not  time  to  stay 
and  test  its  capabilities.  About  sixty  miles  from  the  sea 
we  discovered  a salmon  pool  in  the  Eestigouche,  and 
took  eight  small  fish  from  it  in  an  afternoon  ; but  such 
pools  are  few  and  far  between,  and  I would  not  recom- 
mend any  one  to  ascend  this  river  for  sport  above  the 
Upsalquitch.  The  flies  we  used  here  were  dark  clarets 
and  reds  ; I believe  any  fly  will  take,  recommending, 
however,  larger  sizes  than  the  Nepisiguit  flies,  as  the 


252 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


Restigoiiclie  salmon  run  much  larger,  and  even  in  these 
days  commonly  weigh  thirty  pounds. 

Campbelltown,  a heat  little  village  at  the  head  of  the 
tide,  twenty  miles  from  the  sea,  is  to  be  reached  from 
Bathurst  by  coach ; and  here  the  traveller  or  sportsman 
intendino;  to  ascend  the  Eestio;ouche  or  its  before-men- 
tioned  tributaries,  will  find  a large  settlement  of  Indians 
of  the  Micmac  tribe.  They  all  have  canoes,  and  many 
of  them  are  good  guides,  and  trustworthy.  There  is  a 
good  store  at  which  to  purchase  provisions,  and  a very 
comfortable  little  hotel  kept  by  a Mr.  McLeod. 

We  now  leave  the  rivers  of  New  Brunswick : the 
Besti^ouche  beino;  the  di\ddino;  line  between  the  two 
provinces,  the  rivers  of  the  north  shore  of  Chalem^s  Bay 
are  Canadian.  About  thirty  miles  from  the  head  of  the 
bay  we  come  to  the  Cascapediac,  a large  river  running  in 
a deep  chasm  through  the  mountains  of  Bonaventure. 
It  is  frequented  by  salmon  of  large  size,  and  I have  been 
told  by  Mr.  R.  H.  Montgomery,  who  resides  near  its 
mouth,  that  the  average  weight  is  between  thirty  and 
forty  pounds.  He  offered  to  procure  me  good  Indians 
and  canoes  for  ascending  to  the  first  rapids,  which  are 
some  distance  up  the  river.  The  whole  district  of  Gaspe 
is  intersected  by  numerous  and  splendid  rivers,  abound- 
ing in  salmon  and  sea  trout,  the  latter  of  four  pounds 
to  seven  pounds  in  weight.  The  mountain  scenery  through 
Avhich  they  flow  is  magnificent,  and  many  of  them  have 
never  been  thrown  over  with  a fly  rod.  Amongst  the 
largest  may  be  noticed  the  Bonaventure,  the  Malbaie,  and 
the  ^lagdeleine. 

On  the  south  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  from  Gaspe 
to  Quebec,  there  are  several  streams  which  formerly 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


253 


abounded  in  salmon,  but  of  late  years  have  been  so  un- 
productive that  attention  need  not  be  directed  to  them. 
From  the  Jacques  Cartier,  a few  miles  above  Quebec,  to 
the  Labrador,  the  north  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  is 
intersected  by  innumerable  rivers  ; in  many  of  these  the 
salmon  fishery  has  been  nearly  destroyed,  but  the  energy 
of  the  Canadian  Government  is  fast  remedying  the  evil. 
The  process  of  reproduction  by  artificial  propagation 
under  an  able  superintendent,  and  the  preservation  of 
the  rivers,  are  bringing  back  the  salmon  to  comparative 
plenty  in  many  a worn-out  stream  ; and  the  visitor  to 
Quebec  will  soon  be  enabled  to  obtain  sport  on  the  beau- 
tiful Jacques  Cartier  and  other  rivers  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, without  having  to  seek  the  distant  fishing  stations 
of  the  Labrador.  The  Saguenay,  too,  with  its  thirty 
tributaries,  is  improving ; for  many  years  past  this 
noble  river  has  scarcely  proved  worth  a visit,  except 
for  its  wonderful  scenery.  In  fact,  the  legislature,  aided 
by  an  excellently  constituted  club  for  the  protection 
of  fish  and  game,  have  taken  the  matter  up  in  earnest; 
fish-ways  are  placed  on  those  rivers  which  have  dams  or 
slides  upon  them ; netting  and  spearing  in  the  fresh 
water  is  prevented ; an  able  superintendent  of  fisheries, 
and  several  overseers,  have  been  appointed  ; and,  finally, 
an  excellent  measure  has  been  adopted — the  annual 
leasing  of  salmon  rivers  to  gentlemen  for  fly-fishing,  for 
small  rents — on  condition  of  their  aiding  and  carrying 
out  the  proper  preservation  of  the  fisheries. 

Amongst  the  largest  and  most  notable  salmon  rivers 
which  are  passed  in  proceeding  from  the  Saguenay  along 
the  northern  shore  are  the  Escoumins,  Portneuf,  Bersia- 
mits,  Outardes,  Manacouagan,  Godbout,  Trinity,  St.  Mar- 


254 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


garet,  Moisie,  St.  Jolin,  Mingan,  Natashquan,  and  Esqui- 
maux. Salmon  ascend  all  these  rivers,  and  take  the  fly 
readily.  Whether  they  will  rise  in  the  rivers  of  the 
north-eastern  coast,  past  the  straits  of  Belle-Isle,  remains 
to  be  proved.  It  has  been  affirmed  that  they  will  not 
do  so  in  the  Labrador  rivers  of  high  northern  latitude, 
thus  evincing  the  same  peculiarity  which  has  been 
observed  on  the  part  of  the  true  sea  salmon  of  Siberian 
rivers  flowing  into  the  Arctic  Ocean.  I have  heard, 
however,  that  they  will  rise  at  a piece  of  red  cloth 
trailed  on  a hook  over  the  water  from  the  stern  of 
a boat. 

In  conclusion,  the  salmon  rivers  of  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence,  though  they  offer  no  extraordinary  sport, 
possess  the  charms  of  wild  and  often  noble  scenery ; life 
in  the  woods,  in  a summer  camp,  will  agreeably  sur- 
prise those  who  hold  back  for  fear  of  hard  work,  and  the 
discomforts  of  “ roughing  it.''  Any  point,  excepting  the 
extremes  of  Labrador,  may  be  reached  with  ease  from 
either  Quebec  or  Halifax  ; whilst  the  economy  which 
may  be  practised  by  a party  of  two  or  three,  will  be  found 
to  be  within  the  means  of  most  sportsmen.  At  the  ter- 
mination of  the  fishing  season  a few  weeks  may  be  spent 
in  tourising  through  the  Canadas  or  the  States ; and  in 
the  month  of  September  the  glowing  forests  of  Nova 
Scotia  or  New  Brunswick  may  be  traversed  in  search  of 
moose,  cariboo,  or  bear.  Between  the  Ottawa  and  the 
great  lakes  there  is  excellent  duck-shooting,  and  the  woods 
abound  in  deer  (Cervus  Virginianus),  whilst  the  vast  ex- 
panses of  vdlderness  in  Newfoundland  teem  with  cariboo, 
ptarmigan,  and  wild  fowl ; the  former  so  abundant  as 
sometimes  to  tempt  the  sportsman  (?)  to  kill  more  than 


THE  GRAND  FALLS,  NEPISIGUIT. 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


255 


he  can  carry  away  or  dispose  of,  leaving  the  meat  rotting 
in  the  woods.  To  all  such,  Avaunt ! say  we  ; wholesale 
and  thoughtless  slaughter,  except  on  the  fiercer  species 
— the  natural  enemies  of  man — is  always  to  be  depre- 
cated ; but  the  true  sportsman  we  confidently  invite  to 
the  forests  and  rivers  of  British  North  America,  believ- 
ing that  his  example  in  carrying  out  the  fair  English 
principles  of  sport,  will  tend  much  to  the  preservation 
of  game. 


GLOVEE’S  SALMON. 

S.  Gloverii  (Girard.) 

My  first  acquaintance  with  this  handsome  salmonoid 
began  many  years  since,  when  I would  take  basketsfull 
in  the  month  of  April  in  the  runs  connecting  the  upper 
lakes  of  the  Shubenacadie  river  in  Nova  Scotia.  At  first 
I took  them  to  be  young  salmon,  both  from  their  jump- 
ing propensities  when  hooked  and  the  resemblance  they 
bore  to  the  parr  on  scraping  away  the  scales  from  the 
sides.  Yet  their  rich  olive  black  backs  and  beautiful 
bronze  spots  on  the  head  and  gill  covers  made  them 
appear  dissimilar,  and  I could  no  longer  doubt  them 
distinct  from  salmon,  when  I had  succeeded  in  taking 
them  of  one,  two,  and  three  pounds  weight,  and  still 
spotted,  in  the  early  summer,  quite  dissimilar  in  colour 
from  grilse,  and  far  exceeding  the  size  of  smolts,  whicli 
the  smaller  individuals  somewhat  resembled.  Findinof  out 
their  haunts,  and  seasons  for  changing  their  abode,  we 
were  content  to  take  them  in  the  spring  and  late  in  the 
autumn,  in  the  runs  and  streams  lying  between  their 
spawning  grounds  and  the  deep  waters  of  large  lake 


256 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


basins  (where  they  spent  the  hot  season  and  could  only 
be  tempted  by  bait),  under  the  common  local  misnomer 
of  Grayling.  And  glorious  sport  we  found  it ; the 
dash  with  which  this  game  fish  seizes  the  fly,  its 
surprising  jumps  to  the  level  of  one’s  shoulder,  and  its 
beautiful  metallic  hues,  particularly  in  the  spring,  in- 
vested it  with  an  interest  far  exceeding  that  of  fishing 
for  S.  Fontinalis. 

At  length,  however,  on  referring  several  specimens 
to  Dr.  Gilpin,  they  were  identified  by  him  in  the 
“ Proceedings  of  the  Nova  Scotian  Institute  ” as  S. 
Gloverii,  or  Glover’s  Salmon  of  Girard,  better  known 
in  New  Brunswick  as  the  Silvery  Salmon  Trout  of  the 
Scoodic  Lakes,  where  its  abundance  in  the  rapid  waters 
connecting  the  upper  lakes  of  the  St.  Croix  river,  render 
this  locality  one  of  the  most  famed  fishing  stations  of  the 
Lower  Provinces.  The  following  is  Dr.  Gilpin’s  descrip- 
tion taken  from  specimens  forwarded  by  myself  and 
others  : — 

Length,  about  seventeen  inches  ; breadth  of  widest 
part  from  first  dorsal,  two  and  a half  inches ; length  of 
head  nearly  two  and  a half  inches  ; the  shape  of  the 
head  fine  and  small,  the  back  rising  rather  suddenly, 
from  posterior  to  head,  sloping  very  gradually  upward 
to  insertion  of  dorsal,  thence  downward  to  insertion  of 
tail,  lower  line  corresponding  with  line  of  back ; a long 
elegant  shaped  fish  Avith  a strong  base  to  a poAverful  tail ; 
eye  large,  nearly  half  an  inch  in  diameter  and  tAvo 
diameters  from  end  of  nose ; opercles  rounded,  and  with 
the  pre-opercles  marked  Avith  numerous  concentric 
streaks ; the  lower  line  of  inter-opercle  parallel  Avith 
line  of  the  body,  labials,  both  upper  and  loAver,  arched, 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


257 


line  of  pre-opercle  not  so  rounded  as  opercle ; the 
pectoral  fins  coming  out  very  far  forward,  almost 
touching  the  gill  rays,  dorsal  commencing  about  two 
lengths  of  head  from  tip  of  nose,  sub-quadrangular, 
free  edge  concave ; ventral  about  opposite  sixth  ray  of 
dorsal ; adipose  fin  opposite  posterior  edge  of  anal ; 
caudal  deeply  cleft,  and  very  nearly  the  length  of  head 
in  depth.  In  one  instance  the  tail  was  square.  Inter- 
maxillaries,  maxillaries,  palatines,  vomer  and  tongue 
armed  with  sharp  and  recurved  teeth,  the  teeth  on  the 
vomer  extending  half  an  inch  down  the  roof  of  mouth,  a 
fleshy  line  extending  from  them  to  the  gullet,  the  upper 
jaw  notched  to  receive  the  lower.  In  two  specimens  a 
prolonged  hook  in  lower  jaw  advancing  beyond  the 
teeth.  Girard  says  the  male  fish  has  adipose  fins  oppo- 
site anterior  edge  of  anal,  the  female  opposite  posterior 
edge.  Whilst  in  the  following  description,  taken  from  a 
female  fish,  I have  verified  his  remarks,  I have  added,  that 
in  the  male  the  adipose  fin  is  very  much  larger,  which  is 
almost  the  same  thing.  Colour  black  above,  shading 
down  to  sepia  brown  at  the  lateral  line,  the  brown  being 
the  back  ground  to  numerous  black  spots,  some  round, 
some  lunated  extending  from  opercles  to  tail.  The  opercles 
partake  of  the  same  general  colour  with  yellow  reflections 
and  blue  tints,  but  also  marked  with  spots  extending  to 
the  pre-opercles,  beautifully  round  and  distinct ; sides 
yellowish,  and  belly  white  with  pearly  tints,  the  whole 
covered  with  bright  scales  larger  about  the  sides  than 
beneath.  The  colours  vary  much  by  the  reflected  lights 
made  in  turning  the  fish.  The  colour  of  the  fins  when  fresh 
out  of  water, — caudal  brown,  dorsal  brownish  black,  and 
spotted,  lower  fins  dark  brown,  edges  and  tips  dark, 


258 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


a very  fleeting  lavender  wash  on  dorsal.  Sides  yellowish. 
In  one  adult  specimen  I noticed  a few  red  spots  on  sides, 
but  in  the  young  fish  they  are  very  marked  and  beauti- 
ful. Some  seen  by  myself  in  July  had  vertical  bars, 
red  spots,  very  silvery  on  sides,  and  all,  even  the 
smallest,  had  the  typical  opercular  spots  very  distinct. 
They  were  exceedingly  beautiful  and  might  have  readily 
been  taken  for  a different  species.  On  opening  the  fish 
from  gills  to  tail,  the  heart  with  its  single  auricle  and 
ventricle  first  presented,  the  liver  overlapping  the 
stomach  and  pale  yellow ; the  stomach  descended  about 
one-half  the  length  of  the  fish,  was  then  reflected  sud- 
denly upon  itself  where  it  was  covered  by  numerous 
ccBca  (about  thirty)  ; these  are  the  pyloric  cceca  of 
authors.  It  then  turned  down  again,  and  soon  was  lost 
in  small  intestine  ending  at  the  vent.  The  spawn  were 
each  of  the  size  of  currants  and  bright  scarlet,  about  a 
thousand  in  number,  and  encased  in  a very  thin  bilo- 
bular  ovary,  the  left  lobe  occupying  the  left  side,  being 
a little  over  three  inches,  and  only  one  half  the  length 
of  right  lobe  occupying  right  side;  a second  fi^h  gave  the 
same  placing  of  ovary.  Both  these  fish  were  taken  on 
the  2nd  and  4th  Noveniber  at  Grand  Lake,  Halifax,  and 
evidently  near  spawning.  Fins,  D.  12  or  13,  P.  14,  V.  9, 
A.  9,  C.  20.  Axillary  scale  small.  The  first  dorsal  ray 
in  some  instances  contains  two,  in  other  three  small  rays. 
Typical  marks,  spots  on  opercles.” 

In  its  general  appearance,  markings,  and  delicate 
primrose  tint  on  the  belly,  the  fish  is  not  unlike  the 
trout  of  gravelly  streams  in  England. 

In  former  years,  before  the  construction  of  the  Shube- 
nacadie  Canal,  it  was  found  in  that  river  durinor  the 


ACADIAN  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


259 


summer  months  far  below  the  lakes.  A place  called 
the  Black  Eock,”  just  above  the  head  of  the  tide, 
was  a famous  stand  for  grayling  fishing ; and  five 
and  six  pound  fish  were  not  unfrequent.  Now  cut 
off  from  salt  water  by  the  locks,  their  migrations 
are  restricted  between  the  deep  basin  of  the  Grand 
Lake  and  the  numerous  chains  of  lakes  which  give 
rise  to  its  affluents ; and  the  fish,  whilst  they  seldom 
attain  a greater  weight  than  three  pounds,  are  not  so 
silvery  in  the  spring  as  formerly.  The  same  fish  taken 
at  Loch  Lomond,  near  Saint  John’s,  New  Brunswick,  are 
much  smaller,  browner,  and  paler  in  flesh  than  the  St. 
Croix  trout,  and  apparently  from  the  same  cause. 

In  Nova  Scotia  this  trout  will  take  the  fly  as  readily 
late  in  the  fall  (even  to  first  week  in  November)  as  in 
the  spring,  and  long  after  the  common  brook-trout  ceases 
to  rise.  As  it  is  then,  however,  immediately  proceeding  to 
the  spawning  grounds,  and  with  fully  developed  ova,  this 
sport  should  be  rendered  illegal  after  October. 

Two  great  lake  trout  inhabit  the  deep  lakes  of  the 
Provinces — Salmo  confinis  and  S.  Amethystus — the  former 
being  abundant,  and  sometimes  attaining  a weight  of 
twenty  pounds.  They  may  be  taken  in  deep  holes  with 
bait  or  spoon-hook  trolled  and  well  sunk.  Their  flavour 
is  insipid,  and  they  are  unentitled  to  more  than  a passing 
notice  in  a description  of  the  game  fish  of  Acadie. 

The  yellow  perch  (Perea  flavcscens)  is  exceedingly  nu- 
merous in  lakes  and  rivers.  Though  seldom  exceeding 
half  a pound  in  weight,  heavy  baskets  may  be  taken  in  a 
day’s  fishing  on  some  lakes  (where  they  seem  to  affect 
particular  localities)  by  those  who  care  for  such  sport. 
It  is  a handsome  fish,  of  a bright  golden  yellow  colour. 


260 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


striped  with  dusky  perpendicular  bands.  Its  fins  are  vermi- 
lion ; and  altogether  it  is  a decided  analogue  to  the  English 
river  perch.  It  may  be  taken  on  either  a fly  or  bait. 
When  properly  cooked  it  is  very  palatable.  The  so-called 
white  perch,  also  very  abundant  in  fresh  waters,  is  in 
reality  a bass  (Labrax  pallidus),  and  a worthless  fish. 
The  common  sucker  (Catostomus)  will  sometimes  rise  at 
the  fly,  as  also  will  the  cat-fish,  whose  enormous  mouth, 
surrounded  by  long  fleshy  feelers,  gives  it  a hideous 
appearance.  It  wiU  seize  a trout  of  half  its  own  size. 


CHAPTER  X. 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 

I KNOW  of  no  country  so  near  England  which  offers 
the  same  amount  of  inducement  to  the  explorer,  natu- 
ralist, or  sportsman  as  Newfoundland.  To  one  who 
combines  the  advantages  of  a good  practical  knowledge 
of  geology  with  the  love  of  sport  the  interior  of  this 
great  island,  much  of  which  is  quite  unknown,  may 
indeed  prove  a field  of  valuable  and  remunerative 
discovery,  for  its  mineral  resources,  now  under  the 
examination  of  a Government  geological  survey,  are 
unquestionably  of  vast  importance,  and  quite  unde- 
veloped. Numerous  discoveries  of  copper  have  been 
made  at  various  points,  particularly  on  the  western  side, 
and  coal  and  petroleum  have  been  found  in  the  interior. 
So  completely,  however,  is  the  population  devoted  to 
the  prosecution  of  the  fisheries,  that  even  agriculture  is 
unheeded,  though  there  is  plenty  of  good  land  close  to 
the  harbours.  Between  these,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  roads  in  the  province  of  Avalon  (the  peninsula 
which  contains  the  capital  of  the  colony,  St.  John's), 
there  is  no  communication  except  by  water. 

As  a field  for  sport,  likewise,  Newfoundland  is  but 
little  known.  Some  half-dozen  or  so  of  regular  visitors 
from  the  continent,  one  or  two  resident  sportsmen,  and 


262 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


the  same  number  from  England,  comprise  the  list  of 
those  who  have  encamped  in  its  vast  solitudes  in  quest 
of  its  principal  large  game — the  cariboo — which  is  scat- 
tered more  or  less  abundantly  over  an  area  of  some  twenty- 
five  thousand  square  miles  of  unbroken  wilderness. 

Like  Nova  Scotia,  the  face  of  the  country  is  dotted 
with  lakes  innumerable,  some  of  which,  as  the  Grand 
Lake  (fifty  miles  in  length)  and  the  Eed  Indian  Pond, 
are  of  much  larger  dimensions  than  any  found  in  the 
former  province.  These  waters  all  abound  with  trout ; 
and  beaver,'"  otter,  and  musk-rats,  being  subject  to  less 
persecution,  are  much  more  numerous  than  on  the  con- 
tinent. The  willow  grouse  (Lagopus  albus)  is  the  com- 
mon resident  game  bird  of  the  country,  and  is  exceedingly 
abundant ; and  the  migratory  fowl  pursued  for  sport 
include  the  Canada  goose,  that  excellent  bird  the  black 
duck  (Anas  obscura),  curlew,  and  snipe.  The  black  bear 
and  the  wolf  are  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  interior, 
and  add  a flavour  of  excitement  to  the  varied  catalogue 
of  sport. 

The  following  observations  and  scraps  of  information 
collected  on  several  occasions  of  visits  of  inspection  to 
the  garrison  town  of  St.  John’s  are  here  presented  with 
a view  to  their  proving  of  use  to  the  intending  visitor  in 
search  of  sport,  or  as  interesting  to  the  naturalist. 

The  route  from  Halifax  to  St.  John’s  is  traversed  fort- 
nightly in  summer,  and  monthly  in  the  winter  months, 
by  small  screw  steamers  subsidied  for  the  mail  service, 
and  is  as  uncomfortable  a voyage  as  may  well  be  imagined 
at  times,  the  direction  being  that  of  the  northern  line  of  the 
fog,  which  sometimes  envelopes  the  steamer  throughout. 


* The  beaver  is  not  now  found  on  the  peninsula  of  Avalon. 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


263 


or,  at  all  events,  until  the  vessel  rounds  Cape  Eace — 
nearly  at  the  end  of  the  journey.  Near  the  Cape  icebergs 
are  frequent  during  the  summer  months,  and  it  is  not  an 
uncommon  circumstance  to  hear  the  dull  roar  of  the  surf 
upon  their  precipitous  sides  as  one  passes  in  uncomfortable 
proximity  in  a dense  fog.  Field  ice,  too,  is  another 
drawback  in  the  spring ; enormous  areas  come  down 
from  the  Gulf,  and  more  than  once  the  little  steamer  has 
spent  a fortnight  or  so  enclosed,  drifting  into  one  of  the 
wild,  inhospitable  harbours  of  the  southern  coast.  The 
duration  of  the  voyage  from  Halifax  to  St.  John’s  is 
from  three  to  five  days — a little  longer  when,  as  is 
generally  the  case,  Sydney,  Cape  Breton,  is  touched  at. 
In  fine  summer  weather  coasting  along  the  shores  of 
Nova  Scotia  and  Cape  Breton  is  pleasant  enough,  par- 
ticularly in  the  evenings,  when  the  heated  atmosphere, 
blown  off  from  the  fir  woods,  is  charged  with  delicious 
fragrance.  The  scenery,  viewed  from  the  deck  of  a 
vessel  passing  at  some  two  or  three  leagues  distance,  has 
nothing  of  especial  interest,  as  might  be  inferred  ; the 
numerous  indentations  of  the  harbours  are  hardly  per- 
ceptible, and  the  wooded  country  behind  rises  but  a few 
hundred  feet  or  so  in  a continuous  undulating  line  of  hills. 

O 

A noticeable  rock,  which  may  be  seen  at  a considerable 
distance  out  to  sea,  termed  The  Ship,”  terminates  a 
headland  on  the  western  side  of  the  harbour  of  that 
name.  It  looks  just  like  a schooner,  or  rather  brigantine, 
under  full  sail. 

This  part  of  the  North  American  coast  is  marked  by 
the  presence  of  multitudes  of  sea  birds,  which,  at  the 
periods  of  their  annual  migrations,  afford  abundant  and 
exciting  sport.  Formerly  they  resorted  to  the  numerous 


234 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


islands  of  Nova  Scotia  and  Cape  Breton  to  breed.  Now, 
driven  away  by  persecution,  the  bulk  of  them  go  much 
further  to  the  north-east. 

Every  fisherman  along  shore  has  a fowling-piece,  and 
shoots  ‘‘  sea-ducks,^’  as  he  indiscriminately  calls  a variety 
of  species — eiders,  pintails,  mergansers,  loons,  and  coots — 
and  when  we  consider  the  wholesale  destruction  caused 
by  the  eggers  at  their  breeding-grounds  in  the  Gulf,  it  is 
surprising  that  the  birds  have  not  more  quickly  followed 
the  great  auk  in  progress  * towards  extinction.  As  has 
been  stated  before,  there  is  no  record  of  the  latter  bird 
affecting  these  shores  within  the  memory  of  those  living, 
though  the  Penguin  Islands  (the  bird  had  much  re- 
semblance to  the  true  penguin  of  the  Southern  Ocean) 
certainly  derived  their  name  from  its  former  abundance. 

The  Canadian  Government  have  lately  terminated  the 
wholesale  destruction  of  sea-birds’  eggs  in  the  Gulf  by 
stringent  enactments,  and  the  egging  trade  is  virtually 
abolished.  The  wanton  destruction  which  accompanied 
the  arrival  of  an  egging  vessel  at  the  breeding-grounds 
was  most  disgraceful.  Armed  with  sticks,  the  crew  first 
broke  every  egg  on  the  island  (tens  of  thousands.)  A 
partial  re-commencement  of  laying  ensued,  and  the 
harvest  was  immediately  gleaned  with  the  assurance 
that  the  cargo  on  reaching  port  would  consist  of  none 
but  fresh  eggs.  The  bulk  of  the  spoil  consisted  of  the 
eggs  of  the  guillemots,  and  were  sold  at  about  three 
cents  apiece.  I have  frequently  eaten  them  and  found 
them  exceedingly  palatable ; the  white  somewhat  re- 
sembles that  of  a plover’s  egg  in  appearance  and 
flavour. 

The  local  names  of  the  sea-1  )irds  are  singular.  The 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


265 


beautiful  and  quite  common  harlequin  duck  (Anas  his- 
trionica)  is  called  “ a lord : ” the  long-tailed  duck  (A. 
glacialis)  rejoices  in  the  name  of  ‘‘ cockawee/^  from  its 
note,  and  sometimes  the  “ old  squaw, “ from  the  lu- 
dicrous similarity  between  the  gabbling  of  a flock  of 
these  birds  and  an  animated  discussion  of  a piece  of 
scandal  in  the  Micmac  language  between  a number  of 
antiquated  ladies  of  that  interesting  tribe.’’*  The  puffin 
is  termed  a parrot,  and  the  little  auk,  the  bull-bird. 
The  name  of  shell-ducks  or  shell-drakes,  applied  to  the 
mergansers  (more  especially  to  the  goosander),  is  a 
misnomer  prevalent  along  the  whole  coast  and  in 
Labrador : no  true  tadorna  is  found  in  North  America. 

In  several  of  the  harbours  on  the  Nova  Scotian  coast 
excellent  sport  may  be  obtained  in  winter,  shooting  wild- 
fowl on  the  ice,  for  many  of  these  birds  remain  all 
winter.  Canada  geese  and  brant  are  shot  only  during 
migration.  Scatterie,  a desolate  island  lying  off  the 
eastern  end  of  Cape  Breton,  is  a great  resort  of  sea-birds 


* The  Kev.  J.  Ambrose,  on  “ Birds  frequenting  St.  Margaret’s  Bay,  N.  S.,” 
from  “ Proceedings  of  N.  S.  Inst.  Nat.  Science.”  The  writer  further 
observes  “ The  shooting  of  sea-l)ird3  is  not  only  a source  of  profit  to  our 
fishermen,  and  a means  of  providing  them  with  an  agreeable  variety  at 
their  frugal  board,  but  it  also  relieves  a great  deal  of  the  tedium  of  their 
winter  season  of  inactivity.  It  is  surprising,  however,  that  accidents  do 
not  more  frequently  happen  from  their  mode  of  charging  their  guns.  Three 
fingers  of  powder  and  two  of  shot  is  the  smallest  load  for  their  old  militia 
muskets — the  approved  gun  here — and  in  the  hurry  of  loading  in  a boat 
much  more  powder  is  frequently  poured  in.  Black  eyes  and  bloody  noses 
are  the  not  uncommon  penalties  of  a morning’s  sport,  and  I know  one 
fisherman  whose  nose  has  been  knocked  permanently  out  of  shape  by  the 
frequent  kicking  of  his  gun.  In  several  instances  the  gun  has  gone  clean 
overboard  out  of  the  fowler’s  hands,  by  the  recoil.  But  nothing  can  daunt 
these  men,  or  induce  them  to  load  with  a lighter  hand.  There  is  one  living 
at  Nor’-West  Cove,  who  has  had  his  right  eye  destroyed  by  his  gun,  but 
who  is  now  as  great  a duck-shooter  as  ever,  firing,  however,  from  the  left 
shoulder.” 


266 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


of  all  descriptions,  as  is  also  Sydney  harbour.  Prince 
Edward  Island  and  the  Gulf  shore  of  New  Brunswick 
afford  wonderful  sport  during  the  passage  of  the  geese. 

To  return,  however,  to  the  subject  before  us — New- 
foundland, its  characteristic  features  and  wild  sports. 

A marked  difference  of  outline  to  those  of  the  shores 
of  Acadie  is  readily  perceived  on  approaching  its 
southern  coast.  The  cliffs  rise  from  the  sea  to  the  height 
of  some  five  hundred  feet,  with  a precipitous  face  and 
comparatively  level  summits,  forming  long  stretches  of 
table  land.  Then  the  tall  arrow-headed  pines  are  missed, 
and  on  passing  quite  close,  the  vegetation  with  which 
the  country  is  clothed  appears  singularly  colourless  as 
well  as  stunted.  A chilling  melancholy  aspect  pervades 
the  face  of  nature ; except  for  the  number  of  little 
fishino;  smacks  with  which  the  coast  is  dotted,  we  might 
seem  to  be  passing  the  shores  of  Greenland.  A few 
hours  before,  perhaps,  we  were  in  the  warm  atmosphere, 
blown  with  us  by  a balmy  west  wind  from  the  fir-covered 
hills  of  Cape  Breton ; now  we  are  faced  by  a biting 
north-east  breeze  which  at  once  reminds  us  of  the  chills 
of  early  spring  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Bounding  Cape 
Bace,  and  we  are  fairly  in  the  great  Arctic  current, 
and  most  probably  within  view  of  icebergs — at  least  up 
to  the  end  of  August.  The  water  in  the  early  summer 
is  strewn  through  large  areas  with  floating  pieces  of 
field  ice,  detachments  from  the  great  fields  which  float 
down  the  coast  in  spring,  sometimes,  indeed,  entering 
and  blocking  up  the  harbours  for  miles  out  to  sea.  St. 
Johns  harbour  has  thus  been  blockaded  even  in  the 
month  of  June,  wliilst  the  sea  to  the  distance  of  twenty 
miles  from  the  shore  has  been  frozen  so  that  a traveller 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


267 


miglit  visit  on  foot  any  post  along  sliore  within  seventy 
miles  to  the  north-east. 

The  chilling  effect  of  this  proximity  to  the  southern 
passage  of  ice  through  so  large  a portion  of  the  year 
is  readily  perceptible  on  the  vegetation  in  this  part  of 
the  island.  The  stunted  character  of  the  deciduous 
trees  (of  few  species  compared  with  their  representatives 
on  the  eastern  shores  of  the  mainland)  and  of  the  spruces, 
the  absence  of  the  broad-leaved  maple,  with  which  the 
continental  forests  are  enriched,  and  the  nakedness  of 
the  dull  grey  rocks,  give  an  air  of  dreariness  to  the 
country,  which  it  seems  at  first  to  the  stranger  im- 
possible to  shake  ofi*. 

From  comparative  observations  I should  assign  a 
fortnight  as  the  difference  in  the  progress  of  vegetation 
between  Nova  Scotia  and  the  country  round  St.  Johns. 
On  July  14th,  the  common  lilac,  long  since  faded  in  the 
gardens  at  Halifax,  was  here  found  in  full  bloom.  On 
the  18  th  I observed  various  Yaccinese,  the  purple  iris,  the 
pigeon-berry,  and  Smilacina  bifolia  in  flower,  and  the 
kalmia  just  coming  out,  indicating  fully  the  difference  of 
season  already  stated. 

Although  in  the  interior,  and  especially  on  the  western 
side  of  the  island,  Newfoundland  can  boast  of  forests, 
but  little  wood  deserving  that  name  appears  in  the  vicinity 
of  St.  John’s.  The  wilderness  is  generally  covered  with 
low  alder  bushes  and  thickets  of  white  spruce  (Abies  alba), 
with  a scanty  mixture  of  balsam  fir.  A few  small  white 
birch,  willows  of  several  species,  and  one  description  of 
maple  (Acer  montanum),  with  the  Amelanchier,  or  Indian 
pear,  and  wild  cherry,  constitute  the  bulk  of  the  deci- 
duous vegetation.  The  swamps  (of  great  extent  and 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


268 

constant  occurrence)  are  covered  with  cotton  grass,  and 
Indian  cups  (Sarracenia),  and  the  sphagnum  with  creep- 
ing tendrils  of  the  cranberry.  Dry  elevated  bogs  have 
thick  growths  of  huckle  and  blueberries,  (Gaylussacia 
resinosa  and  Vaccinium  Canadense),  with  the  common 
partridge  berry,  Labrador  tea  (Ledum),  and  sweet-scented 
myrica,  and  open  spots  are  carpeted  with  reindeer  lichen. 
Empetrum  nigrum  (locally  misnamed  heather),  on  the 
numerous  black  berries  of  which  the  curlew  and  wild 
goose  feed,  is  a very  abundant  shrub,  growing  in  the 
open,  with  patches  of  ground  juniper. 

It  was  probably  to  the  profusion  of  berries  (Vaccinese) 
that  the  original  name  of  Newfoundland,  given  by  its 
early  Norwegian  visitors — ‘AVinland — -was  due,  a country 
frequently  alluded  to  in  Norwegian  and  Icelandic  his- 
torical records.  The  huckle-berries,  especially,  are  so 
large  and  juicy  that  they  might  naturally  have  passed 
for  the  wild  grapes  for  which  the  island  was  said  to  be 
famous,  and  which,  it  is  almost  needless  to  state,  do  not 
therein  exist. 

The  birches  appear  to  be  the  only  deciduous  timber  trees 
in  Newfoundland,  for,  with  the  exception  of  the  species 
already  mentioned  and  moose  wood  (Abies  striatum) 

• — both  mere  shrubs — neither  maple  nor  beech  are  to  be 
found.  On  the  western  side  of  the  island,  where  the  soil 
and  climate  approximate  to  those  of  the  adjacent  coasts 
of  the  mainland,  the  hard-wood  forests  attain  a fine 
development,  afibrding  a plentiful  supply  of  fuel,  and 
wood  for  manufacture.  The  yellow  birch  (Betula  excelsa) 

* A tolerably  palatable  red  wine  is  commonly  made  in  Nova  Scotia,  by 
the  settlers,  from  blueberries. 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


269 


grows  here  with  a diameter  of  nearly  three  feet,  and 
pine,  spruce,  and  larch  are  abundant.  The  scenery  of 
the  western  coast  differs  greatly  from  that  of  the  southern 
and  ^eastern.  St.  George's  Bay  and  the  Bay  of  Islands 
are  surrounded  by  rolling  forest-covered  hills,  and  fine 
woods  skirt  the  Humber  river  which  enters  the  latter 
basin,  and  the  great  lakes  in  the  interior  whence  it  flows. 
With  a soil  quite  capable  of  yielding  abundantly  to  the 
agriculturist,  the  presence  of  coal-fields,  vast  mineral 
wealth,  and  extensive  forests  verging  on  the  harbours 
and  rivers,  it  is  surprising  that  this  part  of  the  island  is 
not  more  thickly  settled.  The  fog,  constantly  shrouding 
the  southern  shores,  and  often  extending  for  some  dis- 
tance up  the  eastern,  is  here  of  quite  unfrequent  occur- 
rence, and  the  easterly  winds  which  chill  the  soil  and 
retard  vegetation  round  St.  John  s,  are  divested  of  their 
bitterness  on  crossing  the  island. 

Much  light  is  thrown  upon  the  interior  features  of  the 
main  island  to  the  southward  of  the  great  lakes  by  the 
curious  narrative  of  his  journey  across  from  Trinity  Bay 
on  the  east  coast  to  St.  George's  on  the  west,  published 
as  a pamphlet  many  years  since  by  Mr.  W.  E.  Cormack. 
His  account  is  still  regarded  as  the  best  description  of 
the  interior,  of  which  but  little  more  is  known  at  the 
present  day  than  at  the  time  of  his  visit.  The  journey 
across  the  island  was  undertaken  on  foot,  of  course;  a 
single  Indian  accompanied  him,  and  all  the  necessaries 
of  life  were  carried  in  knapsacks.  After  difficult  progress 
of  some  days’  duration  through  scanty  spruce  forests,  he 
thus  describes  his  first  view  of  the  interior  : — 

We  soon  found  that  we  were  on  a great  granitic 
ridge,  covered,  not  as  the  lower  grounds  are,  with 


270 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


crowded  pines  and  green  moss,  but  with  scattered  trees  ; 
and  a variety  of  beautiful  lichens,  or  reindeer  moss, 
partridge-berries,  and  whortle-berries,  loaded  the  ground. 
The  Xylosteum  villosum,  a pretty,  erect  shrub,  w^s  in 
full  fruit  by  the  sides  of  the  rocks  ; grouse,  Tetrao  albus, 
the  indigenous  game-bird  of  the  country,  rose  in  coveys 
in  every  direction,  and  snipes  from  every  marsh.  The 
birds  of  passage,  ducks  and  geese,  were  flying  over  us  to 
and  fro  from  their  breeding  places  in  the  interior  and  the 
sea  coast ; tracks  of  deer,  of  wolves  fearfully  large,  of 
bears,  foxes,  and  martens  were  seen  everywhere. 

On  looking  back  towards  the  sea  coast,  the  scene  was 
magniflcent.  We  discovered  that  under  cover  of  the 
forest  we  had  been  uniformly  ascending  ever  since  we 
left  the  salt  water  at  Eandom  Bar,  and  then  soon  arrived 
at  the  summit  of  what  we  saw  to  be  a great  mountain 
ridge  that  seems  to  serve  as  a barrier  between  the  sea 
and  the  interior.  The  dense  black  forest,  through  which 
we  had  pilgrimaged,  presented  a novel  feature,  appear- 
ing spotted  with  bright  yellow  marshes  and  a few  glossy 
lakes  in  its  bosom,  some  of  which  we  had  passed  close  by 
without  seeing  them. 

‘‘  In  the  westward,  to  our  inexpressible  delight,  the  in- 
terior broke  in  sublimity  before  us.  What  a contrast  did 
this  present  to  the  conjectures  entertained  of  Newfound- 
land ! The  hitherto  mysterious  interior  lay  unfolded 
before  us — a boundless  scene,  emerald  surface,  a vast 
basin.  The  eye  strides  again  and  again  over  a succes- 
sion of  northerly  and  southerly  ranges  of  green  plains, 
marbled  with  woods  and  lakes  of  every  form  and  extent. 
The  imagination  hovers  in  the  distance,  and  clings  invo- 
luntarily to  the  undulating  horizon  of  vapours  far  into 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


271 


the  west,  until  it  is  lost.  A new  world  seemed  to  invite 
us  onward,  or  rather  we  claimed  the  dominion,  and  were 
impatient  to  take  possession.  Our  view  extended  for 
more  than  forty  miles  in  all  directions,  and  the  great 
exterior  features  of  the  eastern  portion  of  the  main  body 
of  the  island  are  seen  perfectly  from  these  commanding 
heights. 

'‘September  11. — We  descended  into  the  bosom  of  the 
interior. 

The  plains  which  shone  so  brilliantly  are  steppes,  or 
savannas,  composed  of  fine  black  compact  peat  mould, 
formed  by  the  growth  and  decay  of  mosses  (principally 
the  Sphagnum  capillifolium),  and  covered  uniformly  with 
wiry  grass,  the  Euphrasia  officinalis  being  in  some  places 
intermixed.  They  are  in  the  form  of  extensive  gently 
undulating  beds,  stretching  northwards  and  southwards, 
with  running  waters  and  lakes,  skirted  with  woods,  lying 
between  them.  Their  yellow-green  surfaces  are  some- 
times uninterrupted  by  either  tree,  shrub,  rock,  or  any 
inequality  for  more  than  ten  miles.  They  are  chequered 
everywhere  upon  the  surface  by  deep-beaten  deer  paths, 
and  are  in  reality  magnificent  deer-parks,  adorned  by 
woods  and  water.  The  trees  here  sometimes  grow  to  a 
considerable  size,  particularly  the  larch;  birch  is  also 
common.  The  deer  herd  upon  them  to  graze.  It  is 
impossible  to  describe  the  grandeur  and  richness  of  the 
scenery,  which  will  probably  remain  long  undefined  by 
the  hand  of  man,  in  search  of  whose  associations  the 
eye  vainly  wandered. 

“ Our  progress  over  the  savanna  country  was  attended 
with  great  labour,  and  consequently  slow,  being  only  at 
a rate  of  five  to  seven  miles  a day  to  the  westward, 


272 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


whilst  the  distance  walked  was  equivalent  to  three  or 
four  times  as  much.  Always  inclining  in  our  course  to 
the  westward,  we  traversed  in  every  direction,  partly 
from  choice,  in  order  to  view  and  examine  the  country, 
and  partly  from  the  necessity  to  get  round  the  extre- 
mities of  lakes  and  woods,  and  to  look  for  game  for 
subsistence. 

It  was  impossible  to  ascertain  the  depths  of  these 
savannas,  but  judging  from  the  great  expanse  of  the 
undulations,  and  the  total  absence  of  inequalities  on  the 
surfaces,  it  must  often  be  many  fathoms.  Portions  of 
some  of  the  marshes,  from  some  cause  under  the  surface, 
are  broken  up  and  sunk  below  the  level,  forming  gullies 
and  pools.  The  peat  is  there  exposed  sometimes  to  a 
depth  of  ten  feet  and  more  without  any  rock  or  soil 
underneath  ; and  the  process  of  its  formation  is  distinctly 
exhibited  from  the  dying  and  dead  roots  of  the  green 
surface  moss  descending  linearly  into  gradual  decay, 
until  perfected  into  a fine  black  compact  peat,  in  which 
the  original  organic  structure  of  the  parent  is  lost.  The 
savanna  peat  immediately  under  the  roots  of  the  grass 
on  the  surface  is  very  similar  to  the  perfected  peat  of  the 
marshes.  The  savannas  are  continually  moist  or  wet  on 
the  surface,  even  in  the  middle  of  summer,  but  hard 
underneath.  Eoots  of  trees,  apparently  where  they  grew, 
are  to  be  found  by  digging  the  surfaces  of  some  of  them, 
and  probably  of  all.  From  what  was  seen  of  their  edges 
at  the  water-courses,  they  lie  on  the  solid  rock,  without 
the  intervention  of  any  soil.  The  rocks  exhibited  were 
transition  clay  slate,  mica  slate,  and  granitic. 

“ One  of  the  most  striking  features  of  the  interior  is 
the  innumerable  deer  paths  on  the  savannas.  They  are 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


273 


narrow,  and  take  directions  as  various  as  the  winds, 
giving  the  whole  country  a chequered  appearance.  Of 
the  millions  of  acres  here,  there  is  no  one  spot  exceeding 
a few  superficial  yards  that  is  not  bounded  on  all  sides 
by  deer  paths.  We,  however,  met  some  small  herds 
only  of  these  animals,  the  savannas  and  plains  being  in 
the  summer  season  deserted  by  them  for  the  mountains 
in  the  west  part  of  the  island.  The  Newfoundland  deer, 
and  there  is  only  one  species  in  the  island,  is  a variety  of 
the  reindeer  (Cervus  tarandus,  or  cariboo) ; and,  like  that 
animal  in  every  other  country,  it  is  migratory,  always 
changing  place  with  the  seasons,  for  sake  of  its  favourite 
kinds  of  food.  Although  they  migrate  in  herds,  they 
travel  in  files,  with  their  heads  in  some  degree  to  wind- 
ward, in  order  that  they  may,  by  the  scent,  discover 
their  enemies  the  wolves ; their  senses  of  smelling  and 
hearing  are  very  acute,  but  they  do  not  trust  much  to 
their  sight.  This  is  the  reason  of  their  paths  taking  so 
many  directions  in  straight  lines  ; they  become  in  con- 
sequence an  easy  prey  to  the  hunter  by  stratagem.  The 
paths  tend  from  park  to  park  through  the  intervening 
woods,  in  lines  as  established  and  deep  beaten  as  cattle- 
paths  on  an  old  grazing  farm.'^ 

Occupying  nearly  a month  in  toiling  through  the 
savanna  country,  the  latter  portion  of  his  journey  being 
impeded  by  deep  snow,  and  living  in  an  uncertain 
manner  on  deer’s  meat,  beaver,  geese,  and  ducks,  Mr. 
Cormack  further  writes  on  approaching  the  western  coast 
at  the  end  of  October  : — 

‘‘We  met  many  thousand  of  the  deer,  all  hastening  to 
the  eastward,  on  their  periodical  migration.  They  had 
been  dispersed  since  the  spring,  on  the  mountains  and 


274 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


barren  tracks,  in  the  west  and  north-west  division  of  the 
interior,  to  bring  forth  and  rear  their  young  amidst  the 
profusion  of  lichens  and  mountain  herbage,  and  where 
they  were,  comparatively  with  the  mountain  lowlands, 
free  from  the  persecution  of  flies.  When  the  first  frosts, 
as  now  in  October,  nip  vegetation,  the  deer  immediately 
turn  towards  the  south  and  east,  and  the  first  fall  of 
snow  quickens  their  pace  in  those  directions,  as  we  now 
met  them,  towards  the  low  grounds  where  browse  is  to 
be  got,  and  the  snow  not  so  deep  over  the  lichens.  In 
travelling,  herd  follow  herd  in  rapid  succession  over  the 
whole  surface  of  the  country,  all  bending  their  course 
the  same  way  in  parallel  lines.  The  herds  consist  of 
from  twenty  to  two  hundred  each,  connected  by  stragglers 
or  piquets,  the  animals  following  each  other  in  single 
files,  a few  yards  or  feet  apart,  as  their  paths  show;  were 
they  to  be  in  close  bodies,  they  could  not  graze  freely. 
They  continue  to  travel  south-eastward  until  February 
or  March,  by  which  time  the  returning  sun  has  power  to 
soften  the  snow,  and  permit  of  their  scraping  it  off  to 
obtain  the  lichens  underneath.  They  then  turn  round 
towards  the  west,  and  in  April  are  again  on  the  rocky 
barrens  and  mountains  where  their  favourite  mossy  food 
abounds  the  most,  and  where  in  June  they  bring  forth 
their  young.  In  October  the  frosty  warning  to  travel 
returns.  They  generally  follow  the  same  routes  year  after 
year,  but  these  sometimes  vary,  owing  to  irregularities 
in  the  seasons,  and  interruptions  by  the  Indians.  Such 
are,  in  a general  view,  the  courses  and  causes  of  the 
migrations  of  the  deer,  and  these  seem  to  be  the  chief 
design  of  animated  nature  in  this  portion  of  the  earth. 
Lakes  and  mountains  intervening,  cause  the  lines  of  the 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


275 


migration  paths  to  deviate  from  the  parallel ; and  at  the 
necks  of  land  that  separate  large  lakes,  at  the  extremity 
of  lakes,  and  at  the  straits  and  running  waters  which 
unite  lakes,  the  deer  unavoidably  concentrate  in  travel- 
ling. At  those  passes  the  Indians  encamp  in  parties, 
and  stay  for  considerable  interval  of  time,  because  they 
can  there  procure  the  deer  with  comparatively  little 
trouble.’' 

The  Indians  here  alluded  to,  whom  Mr.  Cormack 
believed  to  be  still  inhabiting  the  shores  of  the  large 
lakes  to  the  northward  of  his  course  through  the  island, 
and  the  remains  of  whose  fences  or  pounds  for  snaring 
deer  may  be  seen  at  the  present  day  by  the  banks  of  the 
Exploits  river,  were  the  Eed  Indians,  or  Boeothics — a 
tribe  long  since  extinct.  The  last  of  her  race,  a Eed 
Indian  woman,  named  Shanaandithith,  called  Mary 
March  by  her  captors,  who  brought  her  in  to  St.  John’s, 
died  there  of  consumption  in  1829.  As  far  as  was 
known  of  them,  this  tribe  lived  entirely  in  the  wilder 
portions  of  the  interior,  probably  from  distrust  of  the 
whites,  who  had  ruthlessly  attacked  and  slain  them 
whenever  met  wuth,  as  also  on  account  of  the  harassing 
invasions  of  the  Micmacs,  who  frequently  crossed  from 
Acadia  in  fleets  of  canoes  for  that  purpose.  Smallpox 
has  been  assigned  as  the  cause  of  their  extinction,  and  it 
has  been  likewise  supposed  that  the  remnant  of  the  tribe 
migrated  into  the  interior  of  Labrador,  where  strange 
Indians  are  reported  to  have  been  seen  from  time  to  time, 
not  agreeing  in  type  with  any  of  the  known  resident 
tribes. 

The  Boeothics  have  been  described  as  a fine  athletic 
race,  and,  until  the  latter  obtained  possession  of  firearms, 


276 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


superior  in  war  to  the  Indians  of  the  mainland.  Their 
language  was  quite  distinct  from  that  of  any  of  the  sur- 
rounding tribes. 

In  a pamphlet  published  in  London  in  1622,  by  one 
Richard  Whitburne,  who  had  had  much  experience  in  the 
great  bank  fisheries,  and  was  sent  out  to  institute  a com- 
mission to  inqufie  into  some  abuses  which  were  con- 
nected with  the  latter,  are  to  be  found  some  very 
interesting  accounts  of  Newfoundland  at  that  very  early 
date  of  its  history.  Of  the  Red  Indians,  he  says  : — “ It 
is  well  known  that  the  natives  of  those  parts  have  great 
stores  of  red  ochre  wherewith  they  use  to  colour  their 
bodies,  bowes,  arrows,  and  cannows  in  a painting  manner, 
which  cannows  are  their  boats  that  they  used  to  go  to  sea 
in,  which  are  built  in  shape  like  the  wherries  on  the 
River  of  Thames,  with  small  timbers  no  thicker  nor 
broader  than  hoopes,  and  instead  of  boards  they  use  the 
barkes  ofbirche  trees,  which  they  sew  very  artificially  and 
close  together,  and  then  overlay  the  seams  with  turpen- 
tine, as  pitch  is  used  on  the  seames  of  ships  and  boats ; 
and  in  like  manner  they  use  to  sew  the  barkes  of  spruce 
and  firre  trees  round  and  deep  in  proportion  like  a brasse 
kettle  to  boil  their  meet  in,  as  it  hath  been  well  ap- 
proved by  divers  men,  but  most  especially  to  my  certain 
knowledge  by  three  mariners  of  a ship  of  Tapson,  in  the 
County  of  Devon,  which  ship  riding  there  at  anchor 
neere  by  me  at  the  Harbor  called  Hearts  Ease  on  the 
North  side  of  Trinity  Bay,  and  being  robbed  in  the 
night  by  the  savages  of  their  apparell  and  divers  other 
provisions  did  the  next  day  seeke  after  them,  and  hap- 
pened to  come  suddenly  where  they  had  set  up  three 
tents  and  were  feasting,  having  three  such  cannows  by 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


277 


them,  and  three  pots  made  of  such  rinds  of  trees,  stand- 
ing each  of  them  on  three  stones,  boyling,  with  twelve 
fowles  in  each  of  them,  every  fowle  as  big  as  a widgeon 
and  some  so  big  as  a ducke ; they  had  also  many  such 
pots  so  served  and  fashioned,  like  leather  buckets  that 
are  used  for  quenching  of  fire,  and  those  were  full  of 
the  yolks  of  eggs  that  they  had  taken  and  boyled  hard 
and  so  dried  small  as  it  had  been  powder  sugar,  which 
the  savages  used  in  their  broth  as  sugar  is  often  used  in 
some  meates ; they  had  great  store  of  the  skins  of  deere, 
beavers,  beares,  seals,  otters  and  divers  other  fine  skins 
which  were  excellent  well  dressed,  as  also  great  store  of 
severall  sorts  of  flesh  dryed,  and  by  shooting  off  a musket 
towards  them  they  all  ran  away,  naked,  without  any 
apparall  but  only  some  of  them  had  their  hats  on  their 
heads,  which  were  made  of  seale  skins,  in  fashion  like 
our  hats  sewed  handsomely  with  narrow  bands  about 
them  set  round  with  fine  white  shels.  All  their  three 
cannows,  their  flesh,  skins,  yolks  of  eggs,  targets,  bows 
and  arrows,  and  much  fine  okar,  and  divers  others  things 
they  tooke  and  brought  away  and  shared  it  among  those 
that  tooke  it,  and  they  brought  to  me  the  best  cannow, 
bows,  and  arrows  and  divers  of  their  skins  and  many 
other  artificial  things  worth  the  noting  which  may  seeme 
much  to  invite  us  to  endeavour  to  finde  out  some  other 
good  trades  with  them.'^ 

The  zoology  of  Newfoundland  is  of  a more  Arctic  type 
than  that  of  the  neighbouring  Acadian  Provinces,  being 
characterised  by  the  presence  of  the  ptarmigan,  and  Arctic 
hare,  and  showing  a remarkable  falling  off  in  the  number 
of  species  of  the  continental  fauna.  Thus  there  is  not  a 
squirrel  on  the  island,  and  neither  porcupine,  racoon,  or 


278 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


mink.  The  presence  of  the  wild  cat  is  uncertain.  Fewer 
species  of  the  ordinary  migratory  birds,  visitors  of  the 
Lower  Provinces,  are  found  here.  At  midsummer,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  St.  John's,  I have  noticed  the  absence 
of  the  night-hawk,  so  common  a bird  on  the  Continent. 
Neither  were  fire-flies,  which  were  scintillating  in  myriads 
over  the  swamps  in  Nova  Scotia  at  the  time,  to  be  seen. 
Many  birds,  however,  passing  over,  or  merely  resting  for 
a week  or  two  on  their  way,  on  the  eastern  shores  of 
Acadie,  visit  Newfoundland  to  breed,  such  as  the 
Canada  goose,  fox-coloured  sparrow  (F.  iliaca),  snipe,  and 
others,  whilst  migration  of  American  species  has  a still 
further  range  to  the  north-east,  and  American  birds  form 
a large  proportion  of  the  avi-fauna  of  Greenland,  accord- 
ing to  Dr.  Keinhardt.  The  woodcock  is  not  indigenous 
to  NeAvfoundland  ; and,  strange  to  say,  the  only  specimen 
shot  quite  recently  near  St.  John's  was  a European 
biixl. 

Considering  the  immense  portion  of  this  island  which 
is  claimed  by  Avater,  bogs,  and  swamps,  the  Avell-ascer- 
tained  absence  of  reptilia  is  singular.  In  the  peninsula 
of  Avalon  I haA^e  plodded  frequently  along  the  edges  of 
ponds  and  SAvamps,  hoping  to  see  some  little  croaker  take 
a header  from  the  bank,  or  in  search  of  snakes  by  sunny 
Avoodland  slopes — situations  where  they  might  be  found 
at  eA^ery  feAv  paces  on  the  mainland — but  all  in  A^ain. 
Indeed,  more  than  once  has  the  experiment  been  tried  of 
turning  oat  some  of  the  large  green-headed  frogs  (R. 
clamitans),  to  end  in  failure:  in  a feAV  days  they  Avould 
all  be  found  stift'  on  tlieir  backs.  Cormack  met  AAdth 
neither  frog,  snake,  nor  toad,  on  his  journey  across  the 
main  island,  and  obserAx^s  that  his  Indians  had  never 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


279 


seen  or  heard  of  one.*  The  island  of  Anticosti  is  said  to 
be  similarly  deficient  in  representatives  of  this  class.  As 
has  been  written  of  Ireland  in  an  ancient  poem,  composed 
by  a St.  Donatus,  and  dating  as  far  back  as  the  ninth 
century  : — 

“Nulla  veneiia  nocent, nec  serpens  serpit  in  herba, 

Nec  conquesta  canit  garrula  rana  lacu.” 


From  foregoing  remarks,  it  will  be  readily  seen  that 
the  interior  of  Newfoundland  is  a vast  field  of  discovery, 
especially  interesting  to  the  enterprising  sportsman.  In 
August  and  September,  when  the  berries  are  ripe, 
animal  life  is  wonderfully  abundant  (for  America)  on  the 
open  barrens.  The  deer  begin  their  descent  from  the 
hills  ; willow  grouse,  now  well  grown,  associate  in  large 
coveys ; wild  geese  and  curlew  are  found  feeding  on  the 
upland  barrens,  and  snipe  are  plentiful  in  the  marshes. 
Bears  are  reported  very  numerous  in  the  interior,  where 
their  well-beaten  paths,  traversed  for  ages,  afibrd  good 
walking  to  the  traveller.  When  discovered  at  a distance, 
revelling  amongst  thickets  of  berry-bearing  bushes,  they 
may  be  easily  approached  under  cover  of  ridges  or  rock 
boulders.  Furs  of  many  sorts  would  repay  the  trapper ; 

* Wliitburne  appears  to  have  been  aware  of  this  circumstance,  for  he  writes : 
“Neither  are  there  any  Snakes,  Toads,  Serpents,  or  any  other  venomous 
Wormes  that  ever  were  knowne  to  hurt  any  man  in  that  country,  but  only  a 
very  little  nimble  fly  (the  least  of  all  other  flies)  which  is  called  a Miskieto, 
those  flies  seem  to  have  a great  power  and  authority  upon  all  loytering  and 
idle  peojile  that  come  to  the  Newfoundland  : for  they  have  this  property 
that  when  they  finde  any  such  lying  lazily,  or  sleeping  in  the  woods,  they 
will  presently  bee  more  nimble  to  seize  on  them  than  any  Sargent  will  be 
to  arrest  a man  for  debt.  Neither  will  they  leave  stinging  or  sucking  out 
the  blood  of  such  sluggards,  until  like  a Beadel  they  bring  him  to  his 
master,  where  he  should  labour,  in  which  time  of  loytering,  those  flies  will 
so  brand  such  idle  persons  in  their  faces,  that  they  may  be  knowne  from 
others  as  the  Turks  do  their  slaves.” 


280 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


foxes,  marten,  otter,  beaver,  or  musk-rat.  That  of  the 
Arctic  hare  (Lepus  Arcticus)  is  a handsome,  though  not 
a very  valuable  skin  ; the  ears  are  tipped  with  black,  the 
rest  of  its  winter  dress  being  pure  white.  This  animal 
will  attain  a weight  of  fourteen  pounds  in  Newfound- 
land : it  appears  to  present  no  appreciable  difference  to 
L.  variabilis  of  Europe.  It  is  said  that  there  are  two 
species  of  ptarmigan  on  the  island.  If  so,  the  other  and 
less  common  description  is  probably  the  somewhat 
smaller  and  more  slenderly-billed  bird — Lagopus  rupestris, 
or  rock  ptarmigan.  In  its  summer  plumage,  the  former 
species  is  one  of  the  handsomest  game  birds  the  world 
can  produce.  At  this  season,  the  wings  only  are  white, 
all  the  rest  being  a rich  mottled  chesnut;  an  arch  of 
scarlet  fringe  over  the  eye.  Grouse  shooting  (these  birds 
are  called  grouse  on  the  island,  or  sometimes  by  the 
fishermen  and  settlers — “ 'pattermegans”)  begins  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  St.  Johns,  where  they  are  protected, 
and  the  law  receives  the  assistance  of  a game  society,  on 
the  25th  August.  The  game  laws  are  strictly  observed  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  capital ; snipe  are  included  in  the  Act. 

Although  the  cariboo  is  generally  dispersed  through 
the  interior,  it  will  have  been  seen  that  the  great  bulk 
of  these  animals  shift  from  the  low-lying  lake  and 
savanna  country  to  the  hills,  and  vice  versa,  in  the  spring 
and  fall.  To  reach  the  interior  from  their  great  strong- 
hold in  the  high  lands  which  form  the  extension  of  the 
island  towards  the  Straits  of  Belle-Isle,  they  must  cross 
the  two  chains  of  lakes  and  rivers  which,  overlapping 
each  other  near  the  centre  of  the  island,  discharge  their 
waters  respectively  into  the  Bay  of  Islands  and  Notre 
Dame. 


NOTES  ON  NEWFOUNDLAND. 


281 


Into  the  latter  great  basin,  and  a little  to  the  north  of 
Exploits  Eiver,  empties  a stream  called  the  Hall’s  Bay 
River.  It  flows  from  a chain  of  small  lakes  running 
nearly  east  and  west  at  the  south-eastern  termination  of 
the  mountain  range  before  mentioned ; and  here  the 
great  body  of  the  cariboo  pass,  commencing  their 
southerly  migration  about  the  end  of  August.  Hall’s 
Bay  is  to  be  reached  only  by  sailing-vessel  from  St. 
John’s,  but  the  hunting  grounds  may  also  be  attained  by 
ascending  the  magnificent  river  Humber  from  the  Bay  of 
Islands  on  the  western  side  of  the  island — a course  on 
which  much  grand  scenery  is  to  be  viewed. 

The  north-eastern  extremity,  of  the  Grand  Pond,  some 
fifty  miles  in  length,  with  which  it  communicates,  ap- 
proaches the  Hall’s  Bay  chain  with  easy  access.  Cariboo 
hunting  may,  however,  be  obtained  by  entering  the 
interior  from  the  heads  of  any  of  the  great  bays  which 
so  deeply  indent  the  coast  line  of  Newfoundland. 

Although  the  Indian  race,  which  once  wholly  subsisted 
on  their  flesh,  is  long  since  extinct,  and  there  are  but  few 
resident  Micmac  hunters,  the  cariboo  are  much  kept 
down  by  their  bitter  persecutors  in  every  part  of  the 
globe  where  the  reindeer  is  found — the  wolves.  ‘‘The 
Old  Hunter,”  whose  camp  has  been  frequently  pitched 
in  the  proximity  of  the  famous  deer  passes  just  men- 
tioned, tells  me  of  the  great  destruction  caused  amongst 
the  deer  by  this  fleet  and  wily  brute,  which  he  has  often 
seen  and  shot  in  the  act  of  pursuit.  The  splendid 
head  of  a Newfoundland  cariboo,  fi'gured  No.  2 in  the 
engraving  of  horns,  was  obtained  from  an  animal  shot  at 
Deer  Harbour,  Trinity  Bay,  by  Mr.  F.  N.  Gisborne  (who 
has  kindly  allowed  me  to  copy  it),  when  nearly  run  into 


282 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


by  a wolf.  It  would  appear  singular  that  these  magnifi- 
cent Newfoundland  bucks,  which  will  attain  the  weight 
of  five  or  even  six  hundred  pounds,  with  ponderous 
antlers,  should  fly  from  the  wolf,  considering  the  tremen- 
dous power  of  a blow  from  their  hoofs.  The  specimen 
last  mentioned  weighed  428  pounds  after  being  cleaned. 

With  regard  to  the  sport  which  may  be  expected  by 
the  angler  on  this  island,  it  may  be  briefly  stated  that 
every  lake  abounds  with  the  ordinary  trout  of  Eastern 
America — S.  fontinalis  : sea-trout  ascend  all  the  rivers 
in  July  in  astonishing  abundance,  taking  anything  in  the 
shape  of  l^ait  or  fly  readily  and  indiscriminately.  Salmon 
fishing,  however,  appears  to  be  uncertain ; and  a general 
belief  obtains  that,  on  the  larger  rivers  of  the  north-east 
coast,  they  are  shy  of  taking  the  fly.  I am,  however, 
informed  by  my  friend  Mr.  Gisborne,^  to  whom  I am 
indebted  for  much  information  on  the  sports  of  New- 
foundland, and  who  has  hunted  and  explored  the  country 
in  every  direction,  that  Gander  Bay  River,  an  important 
stream  aflbrding  excellent  canoeing  on  its  course  to  its 
large  parent  lake  in  the  interior,  and  flowing  into  the 
southern  end  of  Notre  Dame  Bay,  is  believed  by  him  to 
be  as  fine  a river  for  salmon-fishing  as  any  in  North 
America. 

* Frederic  Newton  Gisborne,  to  whose  skill  as  an  electrician,  and  the 
energy  which  he  displayed  in  exploring  and  completing  a line  of  telegraph 
across  the  wild  southern  interior  of  Newfoundland,  from  the  east  coast  to 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  further  uniting  that  island  with  the  continent 
by  a submarine  cable,  testimony  has  been  borne  not  only  by  the  community 
of  Newfoundland,  but  by  tjie  inhabitants  of  all  the  British  North  American 
provinces  bordering  on  the  Atlantic.  Whatever  praise  may  be  accorded  to 
another  great  name  in  completing  and  successfully  carrying  out  the  gigantic 
scheme  which  followed — the  connexion  of  the  two  hemispheres  by  the 
Atlantic  cable — Mr.  Gisborne  is  rightly  accredited  in  British  North  America 
with  being  its  original  projector.  Palmam  qui  meruit  ferat. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

CAMPING  OUT. 

The  necessities  and  shifts  of  a life  in  the  woods  are 
described  in  so  many  works  on  North  American  travel, 
with  exhaustive  treatises  on  materiel  and  outfits,  that  it 
becomes  unnecessary  to  dilate  on  this  topic.  Indeed 
there  is  not  much  to  be  said  with  regard  to  camping  in 
these  eastern  woodlands.  Our  expeditions  never  extend 
very  far  from  the  base  of  supply,  nor  have  we  to  contend 
with  such  dangers  as  those  incident  on  prairie  travel. 

Everything  necessary  for  the  woods  is  to  be  got  in  the 
stores  of  all  the  large  provincial  towns,  and  almost  every 
storekeeper  will  be  able  to  inform  the  traveller  of  what  he 
wants  in  the  way  of  tin  ware  and  provisions,  and  how  the 
outfit  should  be  packed. 

Bringing  with  him  his  particular  fancies  in  the  way  of 
breechloaders  or  the  old  style,  he  can  get  fair  rods,  quite 
good  enough  for  the  rough  work  on  American  forest 
streams,  and  good  tackle  and  flies  in  either  Halifax  or  St. 
J ohn  s,  where  also  a first-rate  American  click  reel  may  be 
got  of  German  silver  or  bronzed  aluminum. 

An  elaborate  canteen,  with  all  its  nicely-fitting  arrange- 
ments, got  up  for  a Crimean  or  Abyssinian  campaign,  is 
all  very  well,  perhaps,  for  such  purposes;  but  where  tin- 
smiths’ shops  are  frequent  at  the  starting  point,  no  good 


284 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


is  to  be  got  by  bringing  such  traps  across  the  Atlantic. 
To  save  trouble  and  room  I have  frequently  purchased 
my  bunch  of  tins  at  the  very  last  settlement  where  a 
store  existed,  before  turning  into  the  woods.  It  is  well 
to  remember,  however,  to  get  the  handle  of  the  frying- 
pan  “ fixed  so  as  to  double  back,  and  so  pack  with  the 
plates,  mugs,  &c.,  into  the  big  outside  tin  can,  which  holds 
the  entire  camp  service ; otherwise  the  Indian  who 
carries  it  through  the  woods  will  probably  grumble  all  the 
way,  as  the  stem  is  constantly  catching  in  the  bushes. 

Except  in  winter,  when  opportunities  occur  of  getting 
one’s  traps  hauled  in  on  a sled  over  some  logging  road, 
everything  has  to  be  “ backed  ” through  the  woods,  to 
the  hunting  camp,  and,  consequently,  anything  pro- 
truding from  the  loads  is  liable  to  impede  one’s  progress. 
Hence  the  bundles  should  be  as  near  as  possible  the 
breadth  of  the  back,  all  loads  being  thus  carried,  with  a 
strap  (the  broader  the  better)  encircling  the  chest  and 
shoulders. 

The  Indian,  used  to  the  work  from  infancy,  will  often 
carry  a hundred  weight  by  a withy  of  birch  or  witherod 
bush,  which  seems  as  though  it  would  cut  to  the  bone  ; 
but  to  the  white  man,  unaccustomed  to  carrying  a load 
thus,  a well-balanced  bundle  and  broad  carrying- strap  are 
of  the  first  importance,  particularly  as  long  journeys  are 
often  thus  made,  and  every  true  sportsman  likes  to  do  a 
fair  share  of  the  work. 

A hint  may  be  inserted  here  that  one  of  the  greatest 
drawbacks  to  progress  under  such  unavoidable  circum- 
stances is  to  lose  one’s  temper,  and  a firm  determination 
should  be  made  at  starting  to  avoid  doing  so.  I grant  it 
is  often  hard  of  prevention  when  two  or  three  consecutive 


CAMPING  OUT. 


285 


stumbles  over  windfalls  or  painful  collision  of  the  shins 
with  sharp  stumps  are  followed  by  suddenly  sinking  on 
one  leg  up  to  the  knee  in  a black  mud  hole,  and  the  load, 
slewing  round,  brings  you  over  altogether  into  wet  moss, 
or  still  worse,  when  the  unpractised  hand  nervously 
attempts  the  often  necessary  passage  of  a deep  brook  or 
still- water  stream  (the  latter  is  a frequent  feature  in  the 
forest),  and  the  uncertain  foot  glides  from  the  slippery 
bridge — a fallen  tree — followed  by  a tremendous  splash, 
and  one  or  two  expletives  as  a matter  of  course ; but 
depend  upon  it,  the  less  you  fret  under  such  circum- 
stances the  better  you  will  come  in  to  camp  by  a deal. 
The  Indians  generally  carry  50  lb.  to  70  lb.  weight, 
including  gun  (71b.  or  8 lb.) ; yours  would  be  20  lb.  to 
30  lb.,  and  this  you  ought  to  carry  if  you  are  fit  to  enter 
the  woods  at  all.  To  let  you  know,  however,  what  is 
often  before  you,  here  is  a description  of  a very  common 
feature  in  the  woods — an  alder  swamp  : — 

Take  a substratum  of  black  mud,  into  which  you  will 
sink  at  least  up  to  your  knees,  perhaps  up  to  your  hips  ; 
cover  this  over  with  a treacherous  crust  of  peat,  turf,  and 
moss ; over  this  strew  windfalls,  f.c.,  dead,  fallen  trees, 
with  the  branches  broken  off  close  to  the  trunks,  leaving 
sharp  spikes ; form  an  interlaced  network  of  these, 
sprinkling  in  a few  granite  rocks  ; and  cover  all  this  over 
with  a thick  growth  of  alder  bushes  about  five  feet  high, 
so  that  you  cannot  possibly  see  where  you  are  putting 
your  feet ; vary  the  ground  with  a few  boggy  streams 
and  ‘‘  honey  pots  ” or  mud  holes.  Then  walk  across  this 
with  a good  load  on  your  back,  and  your  gun  under  your 
arm,  without  losing  your  temper ! 

For  either  winter  or  summer  work  the  common  gray 


286 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


homespun  of  the  country  is  the  best  material  for  the 
woods.  It  is  very  strong,  almost  impossible  to  tear  by 
catching  against  the  trees,  and  porous,  which  is  also  a 
great  advantage,  as  it  dries  so  quickly.  Its  colour,  too,  is 
in  its  favour,  being  so  like  that  of  rocks  or  tree  stems. 
An  almost  colourless  material  is  as  necessary  for  moose 
hunting  as  it  is  for  fishing,  though  I have  seen  a good 
New  York  sportsman  flinging  over  a clean  pool  on  the 
brightest  of  days  with  a scarlet  flannel  shirt  and  black 
continuations,  and  get  fish  withal. 

The  Canadian  smock,  known  in  England  as  the  Norfolk 
blouse,  is  a capital  style  of  coat  for  hunting.  Pockets 
according  to  taste,  and  a piece  of  leather  on  either 
shoulder  and  another  on  the  inside  of  the  right  arm  to 
ease  the  pressure  of  the  gun. 

The  camp  generally  taken  into  the  woods  is  a spread 
of  strong  cotton  cloth  soaked  with  boiled  oil  and  well 
dried  in  the  sun.  Its  shape  is  best  understood  by  de- 
scribing the  framework  of  the  camp  as  follows : — Two 
uprights  with  forks  at  the  end  stuck  into  the  ground  some 
eight  or  ten  feet  apart,  the  crutches  about  six  feet  from  the 
base ; a cross  piece  between  these  well  lashed  on,  on 
which  rest  the  tops  of  some  half-dozen  long  slanting  poles 
— fir  or  larch  saplings.  The  canvas  is  spread  over  and 
tied ; two  wings  (triangular  pieces)  form  the  sides,  and 
are  tied  to  the  uprights.  This  is  the  usual  form  of  open 
camp  for  summer  or  the  fall.  The  fire  is  arranged  in 
front.  You  sleep  on  an  elastic  bed  of  silver-fir  boughs 
(not  spruce,  mind,  or  you  would  be  most  uncomfortably 
pricked),  artistically  spread  by  the  Indians  underneath  ; 
they  rough  it  in  the  open,  and  coil  up  under  their  blankets 
at  the  foot  of  a tree  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire.  If 


CAMPING  OUT. 


287 


you  are  on  a fishing  excursion,  encamped  by  the  water- 
side and  it  rains,  they  turn  the  canoes,  bottom  up,  over 
themselves. 

In  winter  they  make  a leaning  cover  for  themselves  of 
boughs  and  birch  bark  nearly  joining  yours  (room  being 
left  above  for  the  ascent  of  the  smoke),  and  fill  in  the  sides 
with  the  bushes  and  slabs  of  split  fir,  the  doorway  being 
covered  by  a suspended  rug.  With  plenty  of  firewood  at 
hand,  no  one  who  had  not  been  in  the  woods  in  winter 
would  credit  the  comfort  and  cosiness  found  in  these 
hunting  camps.  In  fact,  the  ease  with  which  the  wilder- 
ness can  be  made  a home  with  so  little  labour,  and  the 
entire  independence  of  the  sojourner  in  the  woods  who  has 
set  up  a good  camp  well  stocked  with  provision  for  a fort- 
night’s campaign,  and  a few  changes  of  flannels  and 
stockings,  contribute  principally  to  the  charms  of  forest 
life.  We  are  seldom  storm  staid  or  lose  a day  by  remain- 
ing within. 

“ The  frost  might  glitter,  it  would  blight  no  crop, 

The  falling  rain  will  spoil  no  holiday. 

We  were  made  freemen  of  the  forest  laws, 

All  dressed,  like  Nature,  fit  for  her  own  ends, 

Essaying  nothing  she  cannot  perform.” 

writes  one  of  America’s  poets  f and  when  the  snow-storm 
is  driving  or  the  rain  drops  patter  on  the  autumnal 
leaves  strewn  on  the  ground,  it  is  often  seasonable 
weather  to  the  hunter ; and  the  evening  closes  over 
many  an  exciting  tale  of  what  has  been  seen  or  done  in 
the  chase  on  such  days. 

As  a summer  residence  I have  used  a very  portable 
little  square  camp,  opening  at  one  end.  The  top  was 


* Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 


288 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


suspended  on  a ridge  pole  bound  to  two  uprights,  and  the 
sloping  sides  stretched  and  fastened  to  pegs ; it  had  a 
valence  all  round  about  two  feet  high.  The  area  of  the 
surface  it  covered  was  some  eight  feet  by  ten.  Not  being 
oiled,  it  weighed  only  a dozen  pounds  or  so,  and  when 
well  stretched  was  quite  rain-proof,  unless  the  sides  were 
touched  by  a gun  or  anything  leaning  against  them,  when 
it  would  drip. 

Never  encamp  in  a low  site  at  the  foot  of  a hill ; for 
it  is  not  pleasant,  however  well  you  may  be  protected 
from  the  falling  w^aters,  to  find  yourself  becoming  sud- 
denly soaked  by  the  rising  flood,  in  the  nice  comfortable 
hollow  which  your  form  has  made  in  your  bed  of  boughs. 
We  never  expect,  and  rarely  find,  any  unpleasant  results 
in  the  way  of  a severe  cold  from  these  little  disagreeables 
of  camping  out ; living  constantly  in  the  open  air  steels 
the  sensibility  of  the  system  to  catarrhal  affections,  and 
the  Indians  aver  that  they  are  more  apt  to  take  cold  by 
going  into  a house  than  we  are  by  going  into  the  open 
air.  And  so  we  take  things  very  philosophically ; so 
much  so,  sometimes,  that  a friend  of  mine,  on  being 
roused  from  his  slumbers,  on  the  plea  that  he  was  lying 
in  three  inches  of  water,  immediately  lay  down  again  in 
the  old  spot,  averring  that  ‘‘the  water  there  was  warmer 
than  anywhere  else  in  the  camp."’  In  this  country, 
storms  of  this  description  never  last  very  long,  twelve  to 
twenty-four  hours  from  the  commencement  being  the 
general  duration,  when  the  wdnd  veering  round  to  the 
west  (our  fine-weather  quarter),  soon  clears  off  the  rolling 
cloud  masses  from  the  sky,  and  a glorious  sun  and  cool 
zephyr  quickly  dry  the  dripping  forest. 

I like  to  have  the  sound  of  a bubbling  brook  for  a 


CAMPING  OUT. 


289 


lullaby  when  camped  in  tlie  woods ; one’s  somniferous 
tendencies  are  greatly  assisted  by  the  curious  chatterings 
and  tinkliugs  of  its  little  falls  and  rapids.  As  sleep  draAvs 
nigh,  the  multitudinous  sounds  in  turn  resemble,  almost 
to  reality,  those  produced  by  far  different  causes — now  it 
is  men  talking  in  low  tones  close  at  hand  ; then  a distant 
shout  or  despairing  shriek ; and  now  the  impression  is 
that  a herd  of  cattle  are  crossing  the  brook,  splashing  the 
water  ; the  deception  being  aided  by  the  resemblance  to 
the  sound  of  cattle-bells  often  made  by  the  miniature 
cascades. 

Such  streams  are  sure  to  occur  not  far  from  one’s  camp 
by  the  lake  or  river  side.  They  come  dancing  down 
from  the  lakes  back  in  the  woods  to  join  the  river,  shaded 
by  dark  firs  and  hemlocks,  full  of  little  falls,  eddying 
round  great  rocks,  which  stand  out  from  the  stream 
capped  with  ferns  and  lichens,  and  at  whose  base  are 
little  gravelly  pools — the  very  counterpart  in  miniature 
of  some  of  our  grander  salmon  rivers.  Had  Tennyson 
ever  seen  an  American  forest  brook  when  he  wrote  his 
charming  little  idyll,  The  Brook  ? ” I must  insert  one 
verse  : — 

And  here  and  there  a foamy  flake 
Upon  me,  as  I travel, 

With  many  a silvery  water-break 
Above  the  golden  gravel.” 

To  return,  however,  to  the  sober  description  of  practical 
experience.  Never  trust  to  finding  a camp,  of  the  exist- 
ence of  which  you  may  have  heard,  standing,  and  ready 
for  habitation ; and  always  allow  plenty  of  daylight  to 
make  a new  one,  in  case  the  old  is  non  est,  or  gone  to 
pieces.  I remember  one  blazing  hot  summer’s  afternoon 
going  up  the  banks  of  Gold  Eiver,  Nova  Scotia,  to  try 

u 


290 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


some  salmon  pools  at  the  Grand  Falls  on  the  next  morn- 
ing— a twelve  miles’  walk.  There  was  a nice  camp  (so 
reported)  all  ready  to  receive  us.  Feverish  from  the  heat 
of  the  woods,  and  the  severe  biting  we  had  received  from 
the  huge  moose  flies  and  clouds  of  mosquitoes  on  the 
way,  we  reached  the  spot  long  after  sundown,  in  hopes 
of  flnding  shelter  and  a good  night  s repose,  for  we  were 
fatigued.  An  old  camp  of  the  meanest  construction  was 
found,  after  considerable  search  with  birch-bark  torches, 
and  under  its  very  questionable  shelter  we  extended  our- 
selves in  front  of  a meagre  fire  which  had  been  kindled 
with  difficulty,  there  being  nothing  but  fir  woods  around. 
Presently  we  found  that  the  whole  of  the  ancient  bedding 
of  dry  fir  boughs  was  overrun  by  large  black  ants.  Now, 
I had  rather  be  coursed  over  by  rats  than  by  ants  at 
night,  as  the  former  vermin  seldom  act  on  the  offensive 
towards  a sleeping  human  being ; and  so,  sleep  was  out 
of  the  question  till  the  enemy  was  exterminated.  To 
effect  this,  we  arose  and  parted  with  our  beds — to  wit, 
the  brown  spruce  boughs,  which  we  committed  to  the 
flames.  We  then  again  tried  to  rest,  lying  down  in  the 
ashes  round  the  fire,  but  no — on  they  came  again  in 
battalion.  With  one  consent  we  arose,  and  rushed  up 
the  hill-side  into  the  dark  woods,  depositing  ourselves  in 
the  soft  moss  under  the  hemlocks.  Presently  dovm  came 
a new  enemy — pattering  drops  of  rain,  precursors  of  a 
heavy  summer  shower.  Back  to  camp ; but  the  ants 
had  not  retired  for  the  night ; so,  peeling  off  the  sheets 
of  bark  from  the  poles,  we  finally  sought  a hard  bed  on 
the  naked  rocks  by  the  water  s edge,  shielding  ourselves 
from  the  rain  with  our  birchen  waterproofs.  Next  morn- 
ing it  was  discovered  that  our  little  packet  of  tea,  care- 


CAMPING  OUT. 


291 


lessly  pitched  into  the  hack  part  of  the  camp,  had  been 
burned  with  the  fir  boughs  ; so  our  beverage  that  morn- 
ing was  an  infusion  of  hemlock  boughs,  a few  sprays  of 
which  were  boiled  in  water — one  of  the  many  devices 
adopted  in  the  woods  as  substitutes  for  tea.  Morning 
disclosed,  moreover,  a patch  of  the  broad,  sickly-looking 
green  leaves  of  the  poison-ivy  (Rhus  toxicodendron), 
growing  hard  by  where  we  had  reposed,  contact  with 
which  would  have  driven  us  wild  with  dangerous  irrita- 
tion. On  returning  to  the  sea-pools,  however,  our  miseries 
were  somewhat  compensated  by  killing  five  dozen  newly 
run  sea  trout  at  a pretty  stand  in  a wild  meadow,  where 
a cool  brook  joined  the  river. 

Apropos  of  the  flies  which  have  been  just  alluded  to, 
none  of  his  relations  could  have  identified  my  companion 
(a  novice  in  the  woods)  next  morning.  So  swollen  was 
his  whole  countenance  that  features  were  obliterated,  and 
for  nearly  the  whole  day  he  was  helplessly  blind.  Many 
people  suffer  similarly  ; others  enjoy  comparative  immu- 
nity from  swelling,  though  copiously  bled.  On  landing 
from  a canoe,  the  only  plan  is  to  light  a fire,  and  make 
as  dense  a smoke  as  possible.  Lime  juice,  petroleum, 
pork  fat,  or  tar  are  used,  according  to  fancy,  to  smear 
the  face  and  hands  as  preventives,  but  the  flies  will 
scarcely  be  denied  by  such  appliances.  On  salmon- 
fishing  excursions  of  extended  duration  on  the  Nepisiquit 
and  elsewhere,  I have  generally  taken  mosquito  curtains 
to  cover  one’s  body  at  night.  By  day  I and  the  insects 
fight  it  out  in  a continuous  tussle.  In  a recent  number 
of  Land  and  Water^  however,  I find  a receipt  given  by 
my  friend  Ubique,”  an  old  hand  at  “ camping  out,” 
which,  though  I have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  trying 


292 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


for  myself  is  worthy  of  note.  In  nearly  all  timber 
lands/'  he  says,  speaking  of  this  part  of  North  America, 
‘‘  large  fungi  will  be  found  growing  on  the  sides  of  semi- 
decayed  trees ; this  gather,  and  dry  thoroughly  in  the 
sun,  when  it  will  smoulder  if  lighted,  like  a joss-stick. 
The  smoke  is  not  disagreeable  to  man,  and  two  or  three 
pieces  kept  frequently  at  work  will  soon  drive  all  the 
winged  pests  to  other  quarters.  A piece  about  the  size 
of  a walnut  will  burn  for  over  a quarter  of  an  hour." 

Overtaken  by  nightfall,  one  is  sometimes  compelled  to 
camp  in  low-lying  swampy  ground,  when  it  becomes 
exceedingly  hard  to  light  a fire,  owing  to  the  steam 
rising  from  the  damp,  peaty  soil  beneath.  In  this  case 
we  resort  to  the  following  expedient — an  excellent  plan, 
worth  remembering — namely,  to  cut  down  two  or  three 
small  firs  and  chop  them  into  lengths  of  four  or  five  feet, 
placing  them  side  by  side ; this  forms  a platform,  and 
the  fire  kindles  readily  upon  it,  and  the  platform  itself 
burns  with  the  rest.  Another  plan  for  establishing  a 
good  fire  when  there  are  plenty  of  rocks  to  be  obtained 
near  the  camp,  is  to  make  a good  broad  hearth  with  flat 
slabs ; the  stones  will  themselves  emit  much  heat  when 
the  fire  is  established,  and  it  will  burn  better  and  clearer, 
and  may  always  be  relighted  with  very  little  trouble  ; 
and,  moreover,  the  great  hole  which  the  fire  soon  burns 
in  the  ground  beneath,  and  into  which  it  sinks,  will  thus 
be  avoided. 

And  now  for  a few  remarks  on  the  interior  economy 
of  a camp.  A small  amount  of  light  literature  will  while 
away  idle  hours  spent  within — magazines  or  reviews  are 
the  best  generally.  For  a fishing  camp  there  are  several 
excellent  American  piddications  on  the  sport  of  the  British 


CAMPING  OUT. 


293 


provinces,  entertainingly  descriptive,  and  sound  in  advice, 
which  would  prove  highly  useful.  They  include  ''  Game 
Fish  of  the  North,”  by  Koosevelt ; Norris’s  ‘‘  American 
Angler,”  and  Frank  Forester’s  ''Fish  and  Fishing.”  In 
the  former  work  some  excellent  receipts  will  be  found 
for  the  camp  cuisine.  I confess  to  being  somewhat  of  a 
Spartan  as  manager  of  this  department,  and,  before  the 
invention  of  the  really  invaluable  meat  essences,  if  moose 
meat,  porcupine,  or  salmon  were  not  in  the  larder,  would 
fall  back  upon  the  staples  of  a woodman’s  diet — navy 
pork  and  pilot  bread,  from  day  to  day,  unvaryingly.  A 
Sunday  dinner,  however,  would  always  comprise  a boil- 
ing of  pea-soup — one  of  the  best  descriptions  of  camp 
messes — made  of  split  peas,  pork  bones,  lots  of  sliced 
onions,  potatoes,  and  pounded  biscuit,  the  latter  being 
added  with  the  seasoning  at  the  last.  The  utmost  vmi- 
lance  is  required  towards  the  close  of  the  performance  to 
prevent  any  solid  crust  or  deposit  adhering  to  the  bottom 
of  the  pot,  as  it  would  then  immediately  burn,  and  burnt 
pea-soup  is  altogether  uneatable.  We  write  and  read  in 
the  camp,  as  we  lie  on  our  blankets  extended  over  the 
comfortable  bedding  of  fir-boughs,  by  the  light  of  a little 
lamp  filled  with  the  American  burning-fluid ; it  is  one 
of  the  best  and  most  portable  means  of  lighting  a camp 
that  can  be  taken.  A wax  candle  stuck  in  a noose  of 
birch-bark  drawn  tightly  round,  and  held  in  a split 
stick  sharpened  at  the  end,  which  is  planted  in  the 
ground  under  the  name  of  the  Indian  candlestick,  is 
another  and  more  common  means  of  illumination ; and, 
should  candles  or  fluid  have  been  forgotten,  the  following 
will  do  as  a dernier  ressort : — A common  tin  box  (as  a 
percussion-cap  box),  with  a wick  passed  through  a hole 


294 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


in  the  lid,  and  fed  with  lumps  of  fat ; the  tin,  becoming 
warm,  will  keep  the  fat  in  the  proper  state  of  liquefaction 
for  feeding  the  wick. 

The  death  of  a moose  or  cariboo  is  of  course  an  event 
of  great  importance  in  the  hunter’s  camp,  and  is  duly 
celebrated.  What  gorging,  however,  on  the  part  of  the 
Indians — they  will  broil  tit  bits  through  half  the  night. 
Moose  meat  is  very  digestible  ; cariboo  (of  a closer  fibre) 
somewhat  less  so ; bear  most  easily  assimilated  of  all, 
and  ‘'grand  to  travel  on”  says  the  Indian,  who  never 
knows  when  to  stop.  Failing  this,  or  venison,  the  por- 
cupine is  the  great  resource  of  the  hunting  camp  through- 
out the  provinces,  with  the  exception  of  Cape  Breton  and 
Newfoundland,  where  it  is  not  found.  Scalded,  scraped, 
and  singed,  its  bare  body  expanded  on  a cross  to  roast, 
it  looks  anything  but  enticing  to  a novice.  But  the 
appetite  of  the  woods  prevails,  and  overcomes  all  scru- 
ples. It  has,  at  the  same  time,  a drawback  in  the  fre- 
quent occurrence  of  large  quantities  of  entozoa  (Taenia 
pectinata) — no  drawback  to  the  Indian,  however ; some- 
times rather  the  contrary.  An  Indian  told  me,  “ my 
grandfather,  he  like  ’em  ; taste  hard  though — ’most 
like  mustard.” 

The  hare,  and  the  two  sorts  of  tree  grouse,  locally 
known  as  the  birch  and  spruce  partridges  (T.  umbellus 
and  T.  canadensis)  also  contribute  to  the  camp  larder. 
Two  or  three  hanks  of  brass  wire  for  snaring  the  former 
animal  should  not  be  omitted  in  the  outfit.  Of  the  two 
partridges,  the  birch  (the  ruffed  grouse)  is  by  far  the 
best.  It  is  white-fleshed  and  delicate  eating  : the  spruce 
bird  has  very  dark  meat,  and  tastes  like  an  old  pine 
board. 


CAMPING  OUT. 


295 


The  universal  charge  made  by  the  Indian  hunters  or 
canoe  men,  is  one  dollar  per  diem,  though  possibly  the 
camp-keeper  who  stays  at  home,  cooks,  cuts  firewood, 
and  sets  rabbit  snares,  &c.,  may  be  hired  for  two-thirds  of 
that  amount.  They  also  charge  so  much  a day,  say  half 
a dollar,  for  canoe  hire,  unless  you  buy  the  canoe  out- 
right for  from  eight  to  twenty  dollars,  according  to  her 
age  and  size.  Bark  is  getting  so  scarce  in  many  parts 
that  their  charge  in  this  respect  is  not  unreasonable,  for 
in  taking  a party  up  a river  or  through  lakes  with  heavy 
loads  there  is  considerable  wear  and  tear.  To  see  their 
faces  of  anxiety  on  shooting  shoal  rapids ! not  from 
physical  fear,  but  for  the  canoe  ; and  the  agonised  look 
when  a long  grating  rub  proclaims  contact  with  the 
rocks,  and  how  eagerly  on  reaching  shore  they  turn  her 
over  to  inspect  the  bottom  bark  and  ascertain  if  the  cut 
is  deep  or  not ! The  canoe  is  their  pride  ; and  to  many 
the  loss  of  their  little  craft  would  bring  the  greatest 
temporary  distress.  These  beautiful  adaptations  for 
water  transport  in  the  wilderness  are  far  from  being  so 
frail  as  would  be  imagined  at  first  sight.  Though  they 
can  be  made ' scarcely  exceeding  sixty  pounds  weight, 
and  at  the  same  time  sufficiently  capacious  to  carry  four 
persons  and  luggage,  they  are  models  of  strength  in  the 
framework.  The  strips  of  ash  which  form  the  gunwale, 
and  the  delicate  hooped  ribs  of  fir  which  almost  touch 
each  other  throughout  the  length,  are  most  carefully 
selected.  The  thwarts  are  of  thin  ash,  one  is  placed  at 
either  extremity,  on  which  sit  the  paddlers  (kneeling, 
however,  in  the  bottom  in  case  of  rapid  water,  or  a heavy 
sea  on  a lake),  the  other  two  crossing  amidships  as  sup- 
ports. I know  of  no  more  delightful  life  than  a canoe 


296 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


expedition  through  the  forest.  So  many  luxuries  may 
he  taken ; and  the  position  in  Avhich  one  reclines,  legs 
stretched  at  full  length  in  the  bottom,  with  the  back 
propped  up  against  the  blankets  and  loads,  is  just  the 
one  in  which  to  enjoy  the  ever  changing  scenery;  and 
whilst  on  the  water  you  are  blessed  by  a perfect  immu- 
]iity  from  the  flies. 

Though  of  course  each  fresh  abrasion  of  the  outside 
bark  takes  off  from  the  value  of  the  canoe,  injuries  to  the 
bottom  or  sides  are  generally  mended  with  great  ease 
and  celerity.  The  slightest  puncture  is  soon  detected  by 
the  Indian,  on  turning  her  over,  by  suction,  the  mouth 
being  applied  to  doubtful  looking  spots.  Kents  or  gashes 
of  considerable  extent  are  “ fixed ''  by  a piece  of  rag 
dipj)ed  in  melted  resin  softened  somewhat  by  tallow  : 
the  forest  remedy  is  the  hard  gum  which  plentifully 
exudes  from  the  black  spruce — chewing  gum,’^  as  it  is 
called,  being  the  favourite  sweetmeat  of  the  backwoods- 
man. The  bark,  however,  must  be  quite  dry  before  the 
application  is  made. 

In  smooth  water  two  vigorous  Indians  will  paddle  the 
canoe,  well  loaded,  about  six  miles  an  hour.  In  a spurt, 
however,  when  they  strain  to  pass  another  canoe,  or  to 
avoid  some  rapid  or  rock  towards  which  they  are  drifting, 
or  to  overtake  wounded  game  in  the  water,  they  can  nearly 
double  this  speed.  It  is  a charming  sight  to  watch  the 
passing  canoe  thus  powerfully  impelled,  from  the  shore. 
With  its  exquisitely  symmetrical  lines  and  fragile  appear- 
ance, as  it  glides  noiselessly  yet  swiftly  through  the 
water,  one  is  strongly  impressed  with  the  poet’s  fancy 
that  “ the  forest  s life  was  in  it,  all  its  mystery  and  its 
magic.”  Reclining  by  the  river  side  in  the  vicinity  of 


CAMPING  OUT. 


297 


the  fishing  camp,  to  see  a handsome  Indian  youth  bring 
up  his  canoe  to  the  shallow  landing-place  in  a graceful 
sweep,  without  the  slightest  concussion,  and,  lightly 
stepping  out,  draw  her  head  up  into  the  bushes,  is  to 
recall  a just  image  of  a Hiawatha. 

“ Then  once  more  Cheemaun  he  patted, 

To  his  birch  canoe  said  ‘ Onward  ! ’ 

And  it  stirred  in  all  its  fibres, 

And  with  one  great  bound  of  triumph 
Leaped  across  the  water-lilies. 

Leaped  through  tangled  flags  and  rushes. 

And  upon  the  beach  beyond  them 
Dry-shod  landed  Hiawatha.” 

As  it  may  be  inferred  that  every  sportsman  who  visits 
the  woodlands  or  streams  of  Acadie  would  wish  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  existing  local  regulations  for  the 
protection  of  game  and  fish,  a summary  of  the  laws 
framed  for  this  purpose  is  here  introduced. 

In  Nova  Scotia,  with  regard  to  fish,  it  is  enacted  that, — 

‘‘Any  person  taking  salmon  in  fresh  water  westward 
of  Halifax  Harbour  between  the  31st  day  of  July  and 
the  1st  of  March,  or  in  fresh  water  eastward  of  Halifax 
Harbour  between  the  15th  day  of  August  and  the  1st  of 
March,  is  liable  to  a penalty  of  forty  dollars.’' 

“ Bag  nets  shall  not  be  used  in  any  river  or  harbour 
nor  within  a mile  from  the  mouth  of  any  river  under  a 
penalty  of  forty  dollars.” 

“No  nets  shall  be  set  or  allowed  to  remain  set  be- 
tween an  hour  before  sunset  on  Saturday,  and  an  hour 
after  sunrise  on  Monday,  under  a penalty  of  forty 
dollars.” 

“ Any  person  spearing  salmon  or  sweeping  with  a net 
therefor  in  fresh  water  is  liable  to  a penalty  of  forty 
dollars.” 


298 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


‘‘Nets  shall  only  be  placed  on  one  side  of  a river,  shall 
not  extend  more  than  one-third  across  the  same,  shall  not 
be  placed  nearer  than  an  eighth  of  a mile  to  each  other, 
nor  nearer  than  an  eighth  of  a mile  to  any  dam/’ 

“ Every  dam  shall  have  a sufficient  fish  way,  which 
shall  be  kept  open  during  the  months  of  March,  May, 
June,  and  July.  The  owner  or  occupier  is  liable  to  a 
penalty  of  forty  dollars  for  every  time  he  shall  close 
such  passage.” 

“ The  owner  of  a mill  who,  after  being  duly  notified, 
shall  neglect  or  refuse  to  construct  a sufficient  fish  way 
is  liable  to  a penalty  of  one  hundred  dollars,  and  if 
within  ten  days  after  such  penalty  has  been  inflicted  he 
does  not  construct  such  fish  way  he  is  liable  to  have  his 
dam  wholly  prostrated.” 

In  respect  of  the  large  game,  the  law  stands, — 

“No  person  shall  kill,  or  pursue  with  intent  to  kill, 
any  moose,  save  only  during  the  months  of  September, 
October,  November,  and  December,  or  shall  expose  for 
sale,  or  have  in  his  or  her  possession,  any  green  moose 
skin  or  fresh  moose  meat,  save  only  in  the  months  afore- 
said, and  the  first  five  days  in  the  month  of  January  ; 
and  no  person  shall  kill,  or  pursue  with  intent  to  kill, 
any  cariboo  between  the  first  days  of  March  and  Sep- 
tember inclusive  in  any  year.” 

“No  person  shall  kill  more  than  five  moose  or  cari- 
boo, during  any  one  year  or  season,  under  a penalty 
of  twenty  dollars  for  each  ofience  — one-half  to  the 
informer.” 

“No  person  whatever  shall  set  snares  or  traps,  for 
moose  or  cariboo,  under  a penalty  of  twenty  dollars — 
one  half  to  the  informer.” 


CAMPING  OUT. 


299 


The  export  from  this  Province  of  moose  or  cariboo 
hides  is  hereby  prohibited  and  unlawful,  and  the  hides 
attempted  to  be  exported  shall  be  forfeited,  and  the 
owner  or  person  attempting  to  export  the  same  shall, 
on  conviction,  be  liable  to  pay  a sum  not  to  exceed  five 
dollars  on  each  hide,  to  be  recovered  in  the  name  of  any 
prosecutor  in  a summary  manner  before  two  justices  of 
the  peace,  and,  when  recovered,  to  go  to  the  prose- 
cutor.'' 

With  regard  to  smaller  game, — 

“No  snares  shall  be  set  for  hares  between  the  first 
days  of  March  and  September  in  any  year,  under  a 
penalty  of  two  dollars  for  each  offence ; and  all  snares 
shall  be  taken  up  during  the  aforesaid  close  season  under 
a penalty  of  two  dollars  for  each  snare  not  removed,  by 
the  parties  setting  the  same,  on  or  before  the  first  day  of 
March,  to  be  recovered  in  the  same  manner  as  in  the 
preceding  section." 

“ Partridges,  snipe,  and  woodcock,  are  protected  from 
1st  day  of  March  to  1st  of  September, — penalty,  ten 
shillings  for  every  bird  killed  out  of  season." 

“No  person  is  permitted  to  have  any  of  the  above  in 
his  possession  in  the  close  season,  under  a penalty  of  ten 
shillings  for  each." 

Exceptional  cases  to  all  the  game  laws  are  made  on 
behalf  of  the  Indians,  who  abuse  their  privilege,  however, 
most  shamefully,  and  to  the  detriment  of  those  for  whom 
the  preservation  of  the  animals  of  the  forest  is  yearly 
becoming  of  more  importance.  It  is  very  weU  to  argue 
that  the  poor  Indian  has  a right  to  shoot  a moose  or 
spear  a salmon  for  his  own  use  at  any  time  of  the  year ; 
but  when  they  shoot  moose  wholesale  in  the  deep  snow 


300 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


late  in  the  spring,  disturbing  the  cows  when  they  ought 
to  be  at  peace,  and  often  leaving  piles  of  meat  to  decay 
in  the  fast-melting  snow  of  April,  it  is  time  that  this 
wanton  mode  of  proceeding  should  be  put  an  end  to.  It 
is  hardly,  however,  at  their  doors  that  the  blame  is  to 
be  laid — it  is  the  ready  market  that  tempts  them ; and 
although  a question  would  be  raised  if  they  were  to 
bring  their  meat  into  the  larger  provincial  towns,  yet  the 
residents  at  the  smaller  settlements  will  always  purchase 
whenever  they  can  procure  it,  the  local  magistrates  them- 
selves sometimes  setting  the  example.  The  month  of 
April  is  an  idle  time  with  the  settlers,  and  they  often 
accompany  the  Indians,  who  may  be  located  in  their 
neighbourhood,  for  a “ spree  in  the  woods,  chasing  and 
scaring  the  moose  with  long-legged  noisy  curs,  on  the 
crusted  surface  of  the  old  snow.  Throughout  North 
America  there  seems  to  be  a general  difficulty  and 
uiiAvdllingness,  on  the  part  of  the  local  authorities,  to 
maintain  the  dignity  of  the  game  laws — the  more  so  as 
the  locality  is  further  from  the  seat  of  government  where 
the  laws  are  framed.  And  until  the  government  can 
pay  overseers  Avho  shall  be  scrupulously  independent  of 
favour  or  partiality,  in  the  districts  to  which  -they  are 
appointed,  and  whose  whole  care  shall  be  to  bring  to 
justice  every  case  in  which  the  law  is  transgressed,  we 
can  hope  for  no  satisfactory  and  impartial  protection  of 
game  or  salmon  in  those  districts  in  which  such  protec- 
tion is  most  required. 

The  author,  for  many  years  connected  vdth  the  Council 
of  the  Nova  Scotian  Inland  Fisheries  and  Game  Preser- 
vation Society  (latterly  as  Vice-President),  under  the 
continued  direction  of  his  esteemed  personal  friend,  fre- 


CAMPING  OUT. 


301 


quently  mentioned  in  tliese  pages  as  “The  Old  Hunter/'* 
who  has  presided  over  it  since  its  inception,  has  had 
much  to  do  with  the  framing  of  the  present  laws  relating 
to  large  game. 

From  the  almost  incredible  slaughter  of  moose  in  the 
concluding  winter  months,  consequent,  in  some  seasons, 
on  a continuance  of  deep  encrusted  snow  in  the  woods,  a 
restriction  of  the  season  in  which  these  animals  might 
formerly  be  killed  (lasting  until  the  last  day  of  February) 
appeared  a most  necessary  step.  Though  as  true  sport 
moose  hunting  is  seldom  pursued  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
winter,  yet  the  instincts  of  the  Indians,  and  of  the  set- 
tlers generally,  appear  so  ferocious  that  they  seek  the 
opportunity  of  the  animals’  most  prostrate  and  defence- 
less condition  to  inflict  a slaughter  the  excitement  of 
which  apparently  temporarily  blinds  them  to  reason.  Of 
the  Indians  it  is  the  old  story,  corroborated  by  every 
traveller  from  Labrador  to  Vancouver,  from  the  Prairies 
to  the  Pole.  With  regard  to  the  latter  class,  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  the  time  when  the  crust  will  bear 
their  yelping  curs,  racing  the  plunging,  bleeding  moose 
through  the  forest,  is  looked  forward  to  with  the  greatest 
anticipations  of  pleasure. 

In  view  of  amendment  of  this  lamentable  state  of 
affairs,  the  regulations  concerning  the  hunting  of  the  elk 
in  the  Scandinavian  peninsula  were  referred  to.  Once, 
the  elk,  unprotected,  and  regarded  as  a noxious  animal, 
was  on  the  point  of  extinction  in  Norway.  Government 
thereupon  enacted  a stringent  law  forbidding  these  animals 
being  shot  for  a long  term  of  years.  This  was  afterwards 

* Lieiit.-Colonel  William  Chearnley,  commanding  Halifax  Volunteer 
Battalion,  late  Captain  H.M.  8th  Kegt.  (King’s  Own). 


302 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


modified,  and  the  shooting  season  as  regards  elk  is  now 
from  the  1st  of  August  to  the  last  day  of  October. 

As,  however,  in  Nova  Scotia  our  best  hunting  season 
is  comprised  in  the  first  two  winter  months — the  snow 
being  light,  and  so  giving  the  moose  every  chance  of 
escape,  whilst  it  enables  the  carcass,  when  shot,  to  be 
taken  easily  out  of  the  woods — it  was  deemed  expedient 
to  terminate  moose  hunting  with  the  last  day  of  the  year ; 
and  so  the  case  now  stands. 

In  a country  like  Nova  Scotia,  where  a gun  is  kept  in 
almost  every  homestead  bordering  on  the  forest,  or  where 
by  the  river  side  the  barns  are  constantly  occupied  by 
drying  nets,  whilst  the  placid  pools  are  nightly  enlivened 
by  burning  birch  bark,  that  its  fish  and  wild  unprotected 
game  of  all  descriptions  should  have  rapidly  declined  in 
abundance  within  the  memory  of  comparatively  young 
people,  is  not  much  to  be  wondered  at.  The  whole  con- 
tinent of  North  America,  not  only  within  its  settled 
districts  but  even  in  the  remotest  wilds  penetrated  by  the 
mercenary  hunter,  has  undergone  a great  change  in  the 
relation  between  the  distribution  of  its  animal  life  and  the 
other  features  of  its  physical  geography  within  the  last 
quarter  of  a century.  The  Anglo-Saxon  transplanted  has 
revelled  in  his  inherent  love  of  sport,  which  frequently 
turns  into  a lust  of  slaughter,  until  the  game  of  North 
America  has  in  many  cases  altogether  disappeared  before 
the  cruel  tide  of  wanton  destruction  which  has  overtaken 
it.  This  decrease  is  yearly  accelerated  by  increasing 
demand  for  the  spoils  of  the  chase  or  the  products  of  the 
waters,  the  inevitable  result  being  extinction  of  species. 

And  now  our  neighbours  of  the  Northern  States,  who 
have  completely  lost  their  salmon-  long  since,  and  can 


CAMPING  OUT. 


303 


scarcely  boast  of  any  game  in  their  wild  lands  east  of  the 
prairies,  are  calling  loudly  for  restocking  their  rivers  arti- 
ficially in  the  one  case,  and,  in  the  other,  have  enacted 
stringent  laws  to  preserve  the  scanty  remnant  of  their 
deer  and  grouse. 

However  inexpedient  or  impracticable  it  may  have 
been  in  the  earlier  history  of  the  country  to  stem  the 
torrent  of  wasteful  destruction  which  has  swept  over  this 
continent,  there  is  no  doubt  that  here,  as  in  every  other 
part  of  the  world,  increasing  civilisation  would  at  length 
call  for  protection  of  game.  Game,  both  as  a luxury  and 
as  a means  of  recreation,  is  a necessary  adjunct  to  the 
establishment  of  a country  tenanted  by  Anglo-Saxons. 
Witness  the  anxiety  with  which  our  antipodal  colonists 
are  watching  their  attempts  to  introduce  deer,  game 
birds,  and  salmon  into  Australia,  Tasmania,  and  New 
Zealand  ; and  the  eagerness  with  which  the  young  sports- 
men of  the  great  cities  of  the  States  disperse  themselves 
throughout  the  land  in  search  of  recreation  from  the 
prairies  to  the  rivers  of  Labrador.  This  demand  will 
eventually  in  this  country  ensure  protection.  Nature’s 
great  stock-farm,  though  nearly  worn  out  by  the  reck- 
lessness of  the  first-comers,  will  yet  repay  careful 
husbandry ; and  where  so  large  a portion,  of  British 
North  America  especially,  is  destined  for  ever  to  remain 
in  a state  of  nature,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  • people  to  pre- 
vent it  from  becoming  an  unprofitable,  repulsive  wilder- 
ness ; and  how  much  better  to  take  vigorous  measures  to 
preserve  the  remnant  of  the  former  stock  than  at  length 
be  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  the  tedious  process  of 
acclimatisation  or  of  artificial  propagation. 

It  is  perhaps  within  the  last  fifteen  years  that  the  most 


304 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


startling  decrease  has  taken  place,  both  in  the  salmon 
fisheries  and  game  of  British  North  America,  and  has 
engaged  the  attention  of  the  various  colonial  govern- 
ments. Laws  to  j)rotect  the  wild  animals  at  certain  times 
called  close  seasons,  and  stringent  regulations  to  ensure 
fair  play  to  the  salmon,  have  been  passed  throughout  our 
Atlantic  colonies  within  this  period.  As  regards  legisla- 
tion, nothing  seems  neglected,  and  still  the  game  and  fish 
are  decreasing  as  heretofore.  We,  at  least  in  these  pro- 
Aunces,  never  hear  of  cases  of  game-law  breakers  in  the 
police  re]3orts,  yet,  granted  that  the  law  is  sufficient  to 
protect,  it  must  be  tlirough  its  violation  that  the  evil  is 
not  checked.  The  constant  cause  of  this  we  all  know  to 
be  the  defectiveness  of  administration,  and  in  this  part  of 
the  world,  where  there  is  no  such  thing  as  poaching  upon 
private  property,  which  in  England  would  lead  to  pro- 
secution through  the  injured  rights  of  an  individual,  we 
do  not  wonder  at  it.  In  the  old  country  the  game  is 
private  property,  to  protect  which  the  game-laws  are 
framed ; whilst  in  the  protection  of  the  salmon  there  are 
mixed  interests — the  great  value  of  the  fisheries  to  the 
country,  the  netting  interests  at  the  mouths,  and  those 
of  the  proprietors  of  the  inland  fisheries  on  the  rivers 
passing  through  their  estates  or  rented.  Consequently 
any  violation  of  either  game  or  fishery  law  is  there 
dnectly  injurious  to  a proprietor,  and  so  meets  vdth  quick 
justice. 

In  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick,  or  Canada,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  wild  denizens  of  the  forests,  commonly 
called  game,  are  pubhc  property,  or  rather  the  property 
of  the  country.  No  private  rights  are  infringed  by  moose 
hunting  or  partridge  shooting  in  any  part  of  the  country 


CAMPING  OUT. 


305 


at  any  season,  whilst,  in  the  absence  of  proprietors  of 
inland  fisheries,  the  netting  interests  become  so  over- 
whelming that  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  law  should  be 
boldly  challenged  to  prevent  the  salmon  being  speared 
and  netted  on  their  beds  to  the  very  end  of  the  spawning 
season.  It  is  to  assist  in  carrying  out  the  protection 
afforded  by  law  that  societies  have  sprung  up  in  various 
parts  of  British  America  within  the  above-mentioned 
period  of  time — public  associations  of  all  members  of  the 
community  who  are  anxious  to  arrest  the  decline  of  fish 
and  game,  and  willing  to  pay  a small  annual  subscription 
to  the  funds  of  the  society,  binding  themselves  to  bring 
to  its  notice  for  prosecution  all  cases  of  infringement  of 
the  law  coming  under  their  cognisance.  The  Canadian 
fish  and  game  clubs  radiating  through  the  country  from 
the  parent  society  at  Quebec,  where  the  system  com- 
menced in  1857,  have  met  with  marked  success,  from  the 
spirit  with  which  they  have  been  conducted  ; and  now 
the  tributaries  of  the  Saint  Lawrence  in  the  vicinity  of 
Quebec  again  afford  excellent  sport,  and  promise  fairly  to 
return  to  their  former  importance  as  salmon  rivers,  where 
for  years  before  this  fish  had  all  but  become  extinct. 

The  Nova  Scotian  Association  before  alluded  to  has 
likewise  similarly  striven,  and  succeeded  in  enlisting  a 
large  number  of  sympathising  contributors  to  its  support, 
not  only  from  the  sporting  community  but  amongst  some 
of  the  mill-owners  themselves.  To  the  willingness  of  this 
class  in  many  instances  to  open  up  the  rivers,  which  their 
mills  and  mill-dams  at  present  obstruct,  to  the  passage  of 
salmon  and  gaspereaux,  I gladly  bear  witness.  The  one 
uncompromising  form  of  fish-ladder,  however,  which  it 
was  first  attempted  by  government  to  force  upon  them. 


306 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


regardless  of  local  peculiarities  of  their  ''water  privileges/' 
proved  a nauseating  dose,  and  no  wonder.  Every  mill- 
dam  has  some  peculiar  features  as  regards  the  bed  of  the 
river.  In  many  cases  a few  natural  steps  by  the  rocky 
sides  of  a fall  will  answer  all  the  purposes ; in  others  a 
single  slanting  board  opposing  the  fall  over  a small  dam 
will  give  all  the  water  necessary  to  the  ascent  of  fish.  At 
all  events,  local  circumstances  are  so  various  that  no  one 
pattern  of  fish-ladder  can  be  authorised  for  any  number 
of  streams.  A government  ofiicer — a thorough  engineer, 
and  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  habits  and  necessities 
of  salmon  and  other  migratory  fish,  is  what  is  wanted  in 
Nova  Scotia  (in  Canada  the  want  is  supplied),  and  to  con- 
clude in  my  own  words  in  framing  a report  on  this 
subject  two  years  since,  "Your  committee  beg  to  state 
their  conviction  that,  although  the  society  has  not  been 
idle,  hut  little  can  he  effected  in  carrying  out  a 'pro'per 
sujpervision  of  the  inland  fisheries,  unless  an  independent 
and  salaried  officer  he  appointed  by  the  Provincial 
Government. 

" The  difficulties  of  prosecution,  owing  to  the  local 
partialities  of  both  vfitnesses  and  magistrates,  would  then 
be  removed,  whilst  the  judgment  and  advice  of  such  an 
executive,  with  regard  to  the  placing  of  efficient  fish- 
ladders,  under  the  various  peculiarities  of  river  banks  and 
mill-dams,  would  be  considered  decisive  in  overcominsf 
all  obstructions." 


CHAPTEE  XII. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 

The  parting  of  the  icy  chains  of  winter,  and  the  return 
of  spring,  is  the  most  acceptable  change  in  the  seasons  of 
the  year  in  North  America.  The  latter  part  of  the  winter 
is  most  tedious,  and  the  strong  links  with  which  it  binds 
the  face  of  nature  are  snapped  but  slowly — so  slowly  that 
one  is  apt  to  become  very  impatient — heartily  sick  of  the 
sight  of  snow  and  the  tinkling  sleigh-bells.  The  l7th 
March,  as  a general  rule,  is  about  the  time  of  the  first 
appreciable  change.  Warm  rains  and  reeking  fogs  cause 
the  snow  to  disappear  rapidly  ; here  and  there  the  roads 
exhibit  patches  of  bare  ground  with  deep  mud,  and  the 
settler’s  sled  has  to  seek  the  strips  of  snow  which  still 
fringe  the  edge  of  the  road,  or  often  altogether  to  turn 
into  the  woods.  Now  may  be  seen  the  wild  goose  wing- 
ing his  way  in  long  wedge-shaped  flights  to  his  distant 
breeding-grounds  in  Hudson’s  Bay,  alighting  on  the  way 
in  the  various  large  harbours  which,  from  the  extent  of  the 
flats  left  uncovered  by  the  receding  tide,  offer  a secure 
rest  and  an  abundant  supply  of  marine  grasses.  I know 
of  no  more  pleasing  sight  at  this  season  than  the  passage 
of  a phalanx  of  wild  geese  : majestically  cleaving  the  air 
with  slow,  measured  strokes,  they  press  onwards  towards 
their  distant  resorts,  hundreds  of  feet  above  you,  now  and 


308 


FOREST  LIFE  IX  ACADIE. 


again  uttering  tlieir  wild  note  of  apparent  encouragement 
— ''  lionk  ! hawnk  ! ” — a sure  sign  of  the  punter  breaking 
up  for  good. 

“ Hawnk  ! Lonk  ! and  for’ard  to  tlie  XoFard,  is  the  tnunpet-tone, 

What  goose  can  lag,  or  feather  flag,  or  break  the  goodly  cone  ? 

TTfl\\-nk  ! onward  to  the  cool  blue  lakes  where  lie  oiir  safe  love-bowers  ; 

Xo  stop,  no  drop  of  ocean  brine,  near  stool  or  hassock  hoary, 

Onr  travelling  watchword  is  “ Oiu’  mates,  our  goslings,  and  our  glory  ! ” 
Symsonia  and  Labrador  for  us  are  crown’d  with  flowers. 

And  not  a breast  on  wave  shall  rest  until  that  heaven  is  ours. 

Ha^^^lk  ! havmk  ! E-e  ha^vnk  ! 

Frank  Forester. 

Then  come  a few  warm,  sunny  days,  and  the  expres- 
sion of  Nature's  features  appears  quite  altered,  and  our 
welcome  guests,  the  early  migTatory  birds,  arrive  from 
the  more  genial  southern  climes,  filling  the  long-silent 
woods  with  animation  and  melody.  And,  first,  the  well- 
knovm  robin,  or  rather  red-breasted  thrush  (Timdus 
migratorius),  affects  warm,  sunny  banks  in  open  woods, 
whence  he  springs  with  a sudden  note  of  alarm  as  the 
mimderous  boy,  bent  on  developing  his  sporting  pro- 
pensities, creeps  with  levelled  gun  over  the  hifi’s  brow, 
and  seeks  to  ‘^fiU  his  gaping  tunefid  bill  vdth  blood." 
Then  is  heard  the  whistle  of  the  rusty  grackle  (Q.  ferru- 
gineus),  and  the  cheerful  notes  of  the  song  sparrow 
(F.  melodia),  and  before  the  end  of  March  the  woodcock 
(M.  Americana)  may  be  seen,  in  the  evening,  running 
tlirough  the  swamps  and  warm  springs  by  the  road-side, 
ever}^  now  and  then  stopping  to  bore  for  worms,  and  from 
its  comparative  tameness  at  this  season,  becoming  an  easy 
prey  to  the  poacher  or  our  friend  (?)  the  robin- shooter. 
But,  alas  ! all  these  pleasant  appearances  of  spring  are 
but  transient  charms ; back  comes  the  frost,  and  the 
wintry  blast,  and  the  snow-storm  ; the  gentle  advances 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


309 


of  spring  are  rudely  repelled,  and  the  rills  from  the 
melting  snow  again  arrested,  and — 

What  will  the  robin  do  then,  poor  thing  1 ” 

However,  April  ushers  in  some  fine  days,  and  the  increas- 
ing power  of  the  sun  tells  upon  the  masses  of  snow  in 
the  fir-woods  and  the  rotting  ice  in  the  lakes  ; and  at 
last  comes  a fierce  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  with  a warm, 
oppressive  atmosphere,  as  if  the  genial  breath  of  sjDring, 
tmed  of  attempting  to  coax  away  the  departing  chills  of 
winter,  had  now  determined  to  exert  all  its  force,  and 
with  hot  gales  and  heavy  rains  ease  the  surface  of  the 
country  and  lakes  of  their  icy  garments.  Now  a change 
is  indeed  evident ; the  snow,  with  the  exception  of  a 
patch  or  two  in  hollows,  has  all  disappeared  from  the  face 
of  the  earth,  and  the  great  monotonous  fir-woods  them- 
selves lose  their  dark  wintry  aspect  and  blackness,  assuming 
a lively  green  tint,  and  emitting,  as  one  wanders  through 
their  sunny  glades,  faint  odours  of  that  delicious  aroma 
which  pervades  the  atmosphere  in  the  heat  of  midsummer. 
How  great  a relief  this  to  the  resident  in  these  climes, 
subject  so  long  to  the  stern  rule  of  winter  ! What  heart 
does  not  feel  forgotten  memories  recalled,  when,  wander- 
ing along  sunny  banks  in  the  fir-woods,  the  first  blossom 
of  the  fragrant  May-flower  is  seen  and  culled  ? “We 
bloom  amid  the  snow,”  is  the  motto  of  our  province  ; and 
the  May-flower  (Epigsea  repens)  is  to  us  what  the  violet, 
sought  in  hedge-rows,  is  to  our  friends  at  home — entail- 
ing the  same  close  search  for  its  retiring  blossoms,  and 
evoking  the  same  feelings  of  gladness  and  hope.  And 
we  cling  to  these  balmy  spring  days  all  the  more  closely 
as  we  dread  the  chill  easterly  wind,  and  the  dark  sea-fog 


310 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


which  may  cover  us  with  its  gloom  on  the  morrow ; for 
we  live  on  the  shores  of  the  ‘‘  mournful  and  misty  Atlan- 
tic/' and  many  a spring  day  must  yet  be  darkened  by  fog 
and  chilled  by  gales  from  the  floating  ice-fields  drifting 
down  the  coast,  before  the  tardy  green  leaves  of  the  hard- 
woods fully  appear. 

About  the  20th  of  May  the  presence  of  spring  is  per- 
ceptible in  the  sprouting  of  little  leaves  on  almost  all  the 
smaller  deciduous  shrubs,  simultaneously  with  the  light 
green  sprays  of  the  larch.  From  this  time  vegetation 
progresses  with  extraordinary  rapidity  ; a delightful 
change  in  the  atmosphere  almost  invariably  occurs ; the 
cold  easterly  winds  cease  ; balmy  airs  from  the  westward 
succeed,  and  assist  in  developing  the  tender  buds  and 
blossoms,  and  in  a few  days  the  face  of  the  country, 
lately  so  bare  and  dreary,  glows  with  warmth  and  beauty. 
All  nature  rejoices  in  this  pleasant  season  ; the  songs  of 
the  hermit-thrush  (T.  solitarius),  robin,  and  of  a host  of 
warblers,  the  cheerful  piping  of  the  frogs  throughout  the 
warm  night,  and  the  soft  west  wind,  which  borrows  an 
indescribable  fragrance  from  the  blossoms  of  innumerable 
shrubs  and  plants  now  flowering  in  the  vroods  and  on  the 
barrens,  afford  charms  which  more  than  repay  for  the 
gloom  of  the  long  and  trying  winter. 

The  red  blossoming  maple  (Acer  rubrum)  now  exhibits 
crimson  flower-clusters  topping  each  spray,  almost  vieing 
in  colour  with  the  glories  of  its  autumnal  foliage  : the 
Indian  pear  (Amelanchier)  and  wild  cherry  (C.  Pennsyl- 
vanica),  growing  in  great  abundance  throughout  the 
country,  seem  overburdened  with  their  masses  of  delicate 
white  blossoms,  and  impart  a fragrance  to  the  air,  in 
which  are  mingled  a thousand  other  scents ; for  in  this 


THE  PEOGEESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


311 


land  nearly  every  shrub  and  plant  bears  sweet-smelling 
flowers.  The  blueberry,  huckleberry,  and  other  Vacciniae 
now  show  their  pretty  heath-like  blossoms  in  promise  of 
the  abundant  harvest  of  delicious  fruit  which  is  so  ac- 
ceptable to  birds,  bears,  and  bipeds  throughout  the  fall ; 
the  rich  carpet  of  mosses  in  the  fir-woods  is  adorned 
with  a great  variety  of  flowers,  the  most  frequent  being 
the  common  pigeon-berry  (Cornus  Canadensis),  whose 
bright  scarlet  clusters  of  berries  look  so  pretty  in  the  fall 
in  contrast  with  the  green  moss ; and  large  tracts  of 
country  are  tinted  by  the  rich  lilac  flower-masses  of  the 
wild  azalea  (Rhodora  Canadensis),  which  blossoms  even 
before  its  leaves  have  sprouted  from  their  buds.  Many 
of  the  young  leaves  of  the  poplars,  willows,  and  others 
are  coated  with  a canescent  down,  and,  as  they  tremble 
in  the  sunlight,  with  waving  masses  of  white  blossoms, 
give  a sparkling  and  silvery  appearance  to  the  country, 
which  is  very  beautiful  and  attractive. 

This  delightful  season  is,  however,  of  short  duration — 
imperceptibly  losing  itself  in  the  increasing  heat  and 
development  of  summer.  A few  days  change  the  aspect 
of  the  country  marvellously,  and  the  broadly-expanding 
leaves  of  the  maples  produce  a dense  canopy  of  shade 
in  the  forest,  hiding  the  granite  boulders  and  prostrate 
rampikes  on  the  barren  by  covering  the  bushes  with  a 
drapery  of  lovely  green.  Nothing  can  be  brighter  than 
American  spring  verdure,  nor  does  it  degenerate  into 
the  dull  heavy  green  of  English  summer  foliage — the 
leaves  maintaining  their  vernal  hue  on  the  same  branch, 
side  by  side  with  the  brilliant  orange  scarlet  of  their 
dying  fellows,  at  that  beautiful  season  the  fall  of  the 
leaf. 


312 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


The  advent  of  summer  is  characterized  by  the  waning 
of  the  flower-masses  of  the  Ehodora,  and  the  succession 
of  the  crimson  whorls  of  the  Kalmias  (K.  angustifolia 
and  K.  glauca)  as  prominent  species.  The  Kalmia, 
locally  termed  laurel,  enlivens  large  tracts  of  forest,  as 
does  the  last-named  shrub  earlier,  and  forms  a pleasing 
contrast  to  the  new  green  shoots  of  the  young  coniferae. 
The  moss  in  the  greenwoods  is  now  covered  with  the 
nodding  bells  of  the  twin  flower  (Linnsea  borealis)  which, 
in  imparting  fragrance  to  the  atmosphere,  takes  the  place 
of  two  pretty  little  spring  flowers,  the  star-shaped  Tri- 
entalis,  and  the  (locally  so  called)  lily  of  the  valley 
(Smilacina  bifolia).  The  swamp  vegetation,  headed  by 
the  Indian  cup  (Sarracenia  purpurea)  and  blue  flag  (Iris 
versicolor),  flowers  abundantly  in  ponds  and  moist  hollows 
in  the  woods,  the  dark-red  drooping  petals  of  the  former 
prettily  contrasting  with  the  blue  of  the  iris.  The  large, 
yellow-throated  frog  (Eana  fontinalis)  here  rules  the 
world  of  reptile  life  ; his  solemn  ejaculation — ‘‘  glum ! 
glumpk  ! ''  is  heard  in  every  direction  and  at  regular 
intervals,  mingled  with  the  long  trifling  love-note  of 
Bufo  Americanus — the  common  toad — and  the  sharp  and 
ceaseless  cries  of  the  little  Hylodes  (H.  Pickeringii).  The 
deciduous  foliage  attains  its  full  development ; ferns  are 
strong  and  their  spores  beginning  to  ripen.  The  whip- 
poor-will  (Caprimulgus  vociferus),  and  the  night  hawk 
(C.  Yirginianus)  — leading  representatives  of  summer 
birds — arrive ; and  the  plaintive  song  of  the  former — 
‘‘  Wyp-6-il  ” — repeated  in  fast  succession  and  at  frequent 
intervals,  is  now  heard  in  the  maple-bush  copses  by  lake 
or  river-side  throughout  the  night,  with  the  shrill  scream 
of  the  night  hawk,  and  the  strange  booming  sound  which 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


313 


is  produced  by  tbe  latter  bird  in  rushing  perpendicularly 
downwards  on  its  prey. 

The  fir  forest  at  this  season  becomes  intensely  heated, 
and  emits  a strong  aromatic  odour.  Where  a tree  has 
fallen  its  withering  branches  fill  the  air  for  some 
distance  around  with  a most  delightfully  fragrant  scent 
of  strawberries.  To  the  sojourner  or  traveller  in 
the  woods,  the  shelter  and  cool  air  under  deciduous 
trees,  in  groves  of  maple  or  birches,  is  an  appreciable 
relief. 

Lastly  comes  the  flora  of  autumn,  with  its  asters  and 
golden-rods;  and  these,  choosing  open  barrens  and  fields 
as  their  residence,  leave  the  woodlands  almost  without  a 
flower. 

Towards  the  end  of  August  some  of  the  features  of 
the  fall  are  developed.  Maple  leaves  turn  colour  in 
unhealthy  situations  — as  where  the  trees  have  been 
subjected  to  inundation  during  the  summer,  and  have 
consequently  lost  the  vigour  necessary  to  resist  the  frosty 
air  of  the  nights. 

The  plovers  arrive,  and  the  wild  pigeon  is  found  in 
large  flocks  on  the  ground  feeding  on  the  ripe  pigeon- 
berries.  The  barrens  now  afford  astonishing  supplies  of 
berries  of  many  sorts  of  Ericaceae,  and  an  unpremeditated 
meeting  not  unfrequently  occurs  between  the  bear  and 
the  biped,  both  intent  on  culling  a portion  of  the  luscious 
harvest. 

In  September  the  full  brightness  of  the  fall  colour  is 
brought  out  on  deciduous  foliage  ; fast  fading,  however, 
towards  the  close  of  the  month,  and  altogether  disappear- 
ing by  the  end  of  October — the  last  lingering  phases  of 
autumnal  glory  being  the  rich  golden-yellow  hue  assumed 


314 


FOEEST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


by  the  larch,  and  the  dark  Indian-red  of  the  leaves  of 
the  oak  and  whortleberry. 

Then  comes  the  Indian  summer — a season  of  dreamy 
delight,  when  a warm,  hazy  atmosphere  mellows  the 
rich  brown  foreground  and  distant  blue  hills  of  the 
woodland  picture,  and  all  nature  seems  to  bask  in  a calm 
serenity.  The  hermit  thrush  now  warbles  forth  his  fare- 
well from  the  spruce  groves ; the  robins  congregate  on 
the  barrens,  busily  picking  the  remains  of  the  berry-har- 
vest ere  their  departure  for  the  south  ; -and  the  squirrels 
and  wood-marmots  hasten  into  their  granaries  their 
winter  supplies  of  acorns  and  beech-mast. 

Xovember  is  not  far  advanced  before  cold  northerly 
winds  and  black  frosts  remove  all  traces  of  the  beautiful 
fall.  The  bear  and  the  marmot  hybernate  ; the  moose 
select  their  vdnter  yards ; the  last  detachments  of 
lingering  robins  depart,  and  the  retreating  columns  of 
wdld  geese  are  soon  foUoAved  by  the  fierce  driving  storm, 
which  buries  the  hard-frozen  ground  under  the  first  snows 
of  the  long  American  winter.  Yarjdng  in  intensity  of  cold 
and  general  changeableness  of  climate,  according  to  dis- 
tance from  the  sea  and  the  infiuence  of  the  gulf  stream, 
the  winter  drags  on  with  but  little  to  mark  the  monotony 
of  its  course.  On  the  sea-board  of  the  maritime  pro- 
vinces snow  and  rain  constantly  succeed  each  other,  and 
fields  and  clearings  are  often  buried  and  as  often  bared  ; 
but  back  in  the  woods  even  the  long  January  thaw, 
which  is  of  regular  occurrence  in  these  regions,  makes 
but  little  impression  on  the  steadily  accumulating  snow. 

The  summer  birds  have  all  left,  and  the  frogs  are  deeply 
buried  beneath  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  ponds.  On 
the  smooth  white  surface,  which  is  spread  over  his  former 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


315 


hiding-places  in  the  forest,  the  little  American  hare 
(Lepns  Americanus)  has  assumed  his  winter  coat,  assimi- 
lated in  colour  to  the  face  of  nature,  and  affording 
somewhat  of  protection  from  the  numerous  enemies 
which  hunt  him  on  the  snow  so  unrelentingly — the  two 
lynxes,  the  foxes,  the  great  fisher-marten,  and  the  tree- 
marten,  and  lastly,  and  most  perse veringly  of  all,  the 
little  ermine  weasel.  But  he  has  feathered  enemies 
besides — the  horned  and  snowy  owls,  as  well  as  one  or 
two  of  the  larger  hawks.  Considering  the  abundance 
in  which  the  former  bird  occurs  in  the  forest,  and 
the  lengthy  list  of  his  foes,  it  appears  marvellous  'that 
the  little  rabbit,  as  he  is  locally  called,  is  able,  with 
his  family  increasing  only  in  the  summer  months, 
not  merely  to  exist  as  a species,  but  to  contribute  so 
largely  as  he  does  to  the  winter  food  of  the  human 
population. 

Undeniably  gloomy  as  is  the  general  character  of  the 
American  winter,  apart  from  the  vigorous  bustle  of 
civilization,  there  are  days  when  even  the  forest  affords 
sensations  of  pleasure  to  the  observer  of  nature.  What 
can  be  more  beautiful  than  early  morning,  after  a long- 
continued  snow-storm,  when  the  sun  rises  in  a sky  of 
purest  blue,  speckled,  perhaps,  with  light  fleecy  cirrhi,  and 
looking  almost  as  the  sky  of  a summer  day  ? Every 
branch  and  bough  is  covered  with  radiant  crystals  of  the 
new  snow,  and  the  air  holds  a delicious  freshness. 

Eising  from  his  soft  bed  of  silver-fir  boughs  before 
the  embers  of  the  great  logs  which  have  warmed  the 
camp  throughout  the  night,  the  hunter  steps  forth  into 
the  bright  morning  with  feelings  of  the  highest  exhilara- 
tion. Not  a branch  stirs,  save  where  the  busy  little 


316 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


titmice  or  gold-crests,  sporting  amongst  tlie  foliage,  dis- 
lodge a shower  of  sparkling  crystals — 

“ Myriads  of  gems  tliat  iii  the  waving  gleam 

Gay-t^vinkle  as  they  scatter,” 

when  the  disencumbered  bough  flies  back  to  its  original 
position.  The  faintest  sound  flnds  an  echo  amongst  the 
stems  of  the  forest  trees ; the  chopping  of  an  axe  is 
borne  through  the  still  rarified  air  for  many  a mile. 
Bird-life  is  in  full  activity.  The  Corvidae,  the  raven, 
crow,  blue-jay,  and  moose-bird  are  hunting  round  for 
their  morning  meal  of  carrion.  The  grosbeaks  and 
crossbills,  busily  engaged  on  the  fir-cones,  frequently 
rest  to  deliver  their  low  but  melodious  song  from  the 
topmost  sprays  of  the  pines.  The  taps  of  the  wood- 
peckers resound  from  the  hard  surface  of  barked  trees, 
and  the  sharp,  wrathful  chirrup  of  the  common  red 
squirrel  (Sciurus  Hudsonius)  is  heard  in  every  direction. 
The  very  flight  of  birds  may  be  heard  at  a considerable 
distance,  as  may  also  the  scratching  of  a squirrel  against 
the  bark  as  he  races  up  a trunk  some  two  hundred  yards 
away,  or  the  shuffling  of  the  porcujoine  in  the  top 
branches  of  a hemlock,  his  favourite  retreat  on  a fine 
winter  s day. 

Short-lived,  however,  are  such  pleasant  breaks  in  the 
winter  weather.  The  short  day,  commencing  so  bril- 
liantly, more  frequently  closes  with  a prevailing  leaden 
gloom  portending  more  snow,  or,  if  near  the  sea-coast,  a 
fierce  southerly  gale  and  rain. 

In  a damp  atmosphere,  or  with  gentle  rain,  the  stratum 
of  air  nearest  the  ground  being  of  a temperature  below 
freezing  point,  every  spray  in  the  forest  becomes  coated 


THE  PKOGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


317 


with  ice.  Thus  originates  the  beautiful  phenomenon 
called  a silver  thaw.  Seen  in  sunlight,  when  the  mists 
have  dispersed,  the  forest  presents  a wonderful  and  magic 
appearance  under  such  circumstances.  The  network  of 
the  smallest  bushes  is  brought  out  to  prominent  notice 
by  the  sparkling  casing  of  ice,  and  the  surface  of  the 
snow  gleams  like  a mirror.  Such  a scene  as  I once 
beheld  it  at  night  by  the  light  of  a full  moon  was  most 
impressively  beautiful,  and,  I would  almost  say,  unreal. 

Should  a wind  arise  before  the  ice  has  melted,  much 
mischief  is  caused  amongst  the  heavily-laden  branches, 
which  make  the  wood  resound  with  their  snappings. 

The  close  of  the  winter  is  the  most  disagreeable  season 
of  the  year,  and  the  discoloured  snow,  assuming  a round 
granular  shape,  resists  the  sun  with  wonderful  tenacity. 
Night  frosts  consolidate  the  surface,  so  that  small 
animals,  and  man  himself,  are  carried  on  the  snow,  and 
leave  no  track.  The  bulky  moose  sinks  through  ; flying 
from  his  pursuers  with  laborious  and  painful  strides,  and 
leaving  a trail  of  blood  along  his  tracks  from  the  sharp 
edge  of  the  incrustation  cutting  his  legs,  he  soon 
succumbs  an  easy  prey  to  the  wanton  poacher.  The 
settlers’  sleds  and  ox-teams  are  now  in  full  activity, 
drawing  out  the  logs  felled  during  the  winter  through 
the  woods  and  over  the  lakes  to  the  river-side  ; and  the 
farmers  hasten  their  remaining  stock  of  produce  to  the 
market  and  purchase  their  seeds,  striving  to  return  before 
the  final  breaking  up  of  the  snow  leaves  the  roadway 
an  impassable  sea  of  mud. 


318 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


NOTES  ON  PEEIODIC  PHENOMENA. 


The  following  observations  of  periodic  phenomena 
were  made  in  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  an  excellent  and 
central  station  for  observing  the  natural  features  of  the 
seasons  in  the  lower  provinces,  being  on  the  line  of 
migration  of  water  birds  as  well  as  of  such  land  birds 
as  pass  over  farther  to  the  north  or  eastward,  to  New- 
foundland or  Labrador.  Some  allowance  must  be  made 
with  regard  to  locality  in  different  parts  of  the  provinces 
— as,  for  instance,  in  the  case  of  Montreal,  where  the 
advent  of  winter  and  of  spring  phenomena  is  rather  earlier 
than  at  Halifax,  or  of  Quebec,  where  the  latter  season  is 
more  backward,  and  a lower  degree  of  mean  winter 
temperature  prevails  — yet,  excepting  that  a larger 
number  of  species  is  comprised  in  the  fauna  and  flora 
of  the  Canadas,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  in  Newfound- 
land, a great  reduction  occurs  in  the  representation  of 
both  kingdoms  with  an  entire  absence  of  the  class 
Eeptilia,  it  may  be  said  that  the  phenomena  of  the 
seasons  in  Nova  Scotia  afford  a fair  index  to  such  occur- 
rences throughout  the  British  provinces  of  North 
America  bordering  on  the  Atlantic.* 

* Mean  temperature  and  atmospheric  pressure  for  four  years,  from  1863 
to  1866  inclusive  : — 


Thermometer.  Barometer. 


Winter 
Spring . 
Summer 
Autumn 


. 24° 

. 39° 


. 61° 
. 48° 


29-66° 

29-62° 

29-68° 

29-67° 


Mean 


43°  29-66° 

From  Proceedings  of  N.S.  Institute  of  Natural  Science. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


319 


NOTES  OF  THE  YEAK  186  . 

January  5.  Snow  falls  at  niglit  to  depth  of  four 
inches,  quite  level,  with  a cold  N.E.  wind. 

6.  First  good  sleighing  of  the  year  in  Halifax ; ther- 
mometer ranges  about  12°  Fahr.  throughout  the  day. 

7.  Clear  and  cold  ; thermometer,  — 5°.  A dense  pall 
of  vapour  on  the  harbour,  obscuring  all  but  the  tops 
of  vessels,  and  coating  the  sides  and  rigging  with 
ice.  Large  numbers  of  smelts  and  frost-fish  (Morrhua 
pruinosa)  brought  to  market ; the  former  taken  with  bait 
through  holes  cut  in  the  ice  in  upper  harbours  or  large 
lakes  freely  communicating  with  the  sea  ; the  latter  by 
bag-nets  in  rivers  at  the  head  of  the  tide,  where  they  are 
now  engaged  in  spawning.  They  are  only  taken  at  night, 
returning  at  daybreak  to  deep  water.  Trout,  taken 
through  the  ice,  and  brought  to  market,  dark  and  flabby, 
and  quite  worthless. 

10.  The  north-west  arm  of  the  sea  in  rear  of  the  city 
of  Halifax  frozen  from  head  to  the  Chain  Battery,  two 
miles,  and  covered  with  light  snow.  Sleighing  on  roads 
excellent. 

10 — 21.  Mild,  close  weather,  with  southerly  winds 
and  occasional  heavy  rains  ; snow  nearly  disappears,  even 
in  the  woods  to  the  eastward.  This  is  an  instance  of  the 
usual  January  thaw. 

22.  Ice  on  the  lake  twelve  inches  thick.  Many  moose 
killed  during  the  thaw  brought  to  market ; the  bulls  still 
retain  their  horns.  Eels  taken  in  harbours  by  spearing 
through  holes  in  the  ice  on  muddy  bottoms,  where  they 
lie  in  a state  of  torpidity. 


320 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


26.  Four  indies  of  snow  fall  during  day. 

27.  Calm,  dear  weather  ; excellent  sleighing. 

28 — 31.  Very  variable  ; soft  and  mild,  with  rain  from 
southward,  changing  to  hard  frost  with  N.W.  wind ; three 
inches  of  snow  from  N.E.  on  31st. 

February  1.  Thermometer,  0°,  in  the  morning. 

2 — 7.  Very  oppressive,  unhealthy  weather  : dense 
fogs  and  occasional  rains  ; snow  disappearing,  except  in 
the  woods.  The  sap  is  commencing  to  flow  in  deciduous 
trees,  owing  to  the  mildness  of  the  weather  ; buds  appear 
on  maples  and  currant  bushes. 

8.  Distant  thunder  heard. 

10 — 13.  Light  frosts  recommence.  Ground  bare  of 
snow  on  roads  ; good  skating  on  lakes  and  arms  of  the 
sea,  all  the  snow  having  been  melted  off  the  surface. 

1 4.  Wind  shifts  to  N.,  with  gale  ; mercury  falls  at 
night  to  0°. 

18.  Cold  weather  continues  ; mercury,  — 2°,  at  eight 
A.M.  Good  sleighing,  considerable  snow  having  fallen 
since  the  change. 

22 — 24.  A thaw;  rain,  with  thick  sea  fogs;  roads 
and  streets  deep  with  mud. 

26 — 27.  A little  snow  falls,  succeeded  by  mild 
weather. 

March  2.  A heavy  snow-storm  from  N.E. ; five  inches 
fall ; the  sleighing  good.  Smelts,  caught  through  the 
ice,  still  brought  to  market,  but  becoming  more  scarce. 
The  song  sparrow  (F.  melodia),  a few  of  which  stay  all 
winter,  singing  in  gardens. 

4.  Snow  disappearing  under  the  sun. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


321 


much  rain. 

11.  First  salmon  brought  to  market  from  'Che  sea  at 
Margaret  s Bay.  Several  flocks  of  wild  geese  pass  over 
to  the  eastward.  A few  robins  (Turdus  migratorius) 
seen.  It  is  uncertain  whether  these  are  new  comers,  as 
many  have  remained  aU  winter  around  the  Halifax 
peninsula. 

14.  The  fine,  warm  weather  of  past  few  days  dis- 
pelled by  a northerly  snow-storm,  with  14°  of  frost  at 
night.  Western  salmon  become  more  plentiful  in  the 
market.  The  fur  of  the  hare  assuming  its  summer  colour, 
showing  patches  of  light  brown  interspersed  with  the 
white. 

19.  Mild  and  clear,  after  rains.  Ice  on  the  lakes 
becomes  very  rotten,  and  unsafe  for  travelling.  The  rusty 
grakle  (Quiscalus  ferrugineus),  locally  termed  blackbird, 
arrives.  Immense  quantities  of  sea-fish,  comprising  cod, 
haddock,  and  halibut,  brought  to  market.  Woodcock 
arrives.  Eobins  frequently  seen  in  open  spots  in  the 
woods  near  the  sea.  Snowbird  (Fringilla  nivahs)  arrives. 
A few  have  remained  all  winter. 

23,  24.  Easterly  wind,  with  snow.  Sleighs  out  again 
in  the  streets. 

26.  Fine  and  mild. 

27.  Very  fine  and  pleasant.  The  song  sparrow  (F. 
melodia)  is  heard  frequently.  Grass  on  sloping  banks 
becoming  green.  Eobins  find  worms  at  the  surface. 
Maple-trees  (Acer  saccharinum)  tapped  by  sugar  makers. 

30 — 31.  Cold  rains,  with  N.E.  wind.  Many  moose 
killed  by  settlers  in  woods  near  Annapolis,  where  the 
snow  stiU  continues  deep. 


5 — 10.  Very  variable ; 


322 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


REMARKS  ON  THE  ABOVE  QUARTER. 

The  weather  during  the  foresfoino^  winter  months 

O o o 

was  exceedingly  unsettled.  The  mean  temperatures  of 
January,  February,  and  March  were  23°,  26°,  and  28°, 
respectively;  the  minimum  of  cold  in  January,  —5°, 
being  unusually  small.  There  are  few  instances  of  the 
two  coldest  months,  January  and  February,  passing  over 
without  —10'^  to  — 15°  being  registered.  Even  in  the 
beginning  of  March,  in  some  Avinters,  the  climate  is  still 
subject  to  the  occurrence  of  one  of  those  sudden  passages 
of  extreme  cold,  with  strong  N.  and  N.W.  winds,  which 
sweep  uniformly  over  the  continent  from  high  latitudes, 
and  form  the  most  dreaded  feature  of  the  North  Ame- 
rican winter.  On  these  occasions,  and  in  severe  visita- 
tions, the  mercury  will  fall  to  — 1 5°,  and  sometimes, 
though  very  rarely,  to  — 20°,  at  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia ; 
the  minimum  contemporary  cold  indicated  at  Sydney, 
(Cape  Breton),  Frederictown  (New  Brunswick),  Bangor 
(Maine),  and  Kingston  (Upper  Canada),  being  —30°  to 
— 40°.  In  the  beginniug  of  March,  1863,  a heavy  snow- 
storm was  followed  by  severe  cold,  the  thermometer 
registering  — 6°  at  Halifax,  and  —30°  at  Sydney,  Cape 
Breton.  A similar  late  visitation  of  cold  weather  follow- 
ing a deep  fall  of  snow  occurred  in  March,  1859,  Avhen 
the  mercury  fell  to  —3°  and  —5°  during  the  nights  of 
the  first  three  days  of  the  month.  The  heaviest  falls  of 
snow  occur  in  February  and  early  in  March,  when 
sometimes  nearly  three  feet  of  fresh  snow  is  deposited, 
accumulating  by  road  sides  in  immense  drifts  Avhich 
almost  hide  small  dAvellings.  On  the  8th  February, 
1866,  Halifax  harbour  was  entirely  frozen  over,  and  bore 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


323 


large  numbers  of  persons  securely.  The  thermometer 
indicated  only  —7°  when  this  occurred,  but  the  cold  was 
of  some  days'  continuance,  and  favoured  by  a perfect 
calm.  This  harbour  rarely  freezes  to  impede  navigation, 
as  do  those  further  to  the  eastward. 

The  roseate  hue  cast  over  the  snow-covered  surface  of 
the  country  by  the  sun’s  rays  on  a fine  March  afternoon 
in  the  fine  weather  succeeding  a storm  imparts  a beau- 
tiful effect  to  the  wintry  landscape  ; in  a steady  winter 
this  is  the  most  busy  time  for  sleds,  snow-shoes,  and  the 
youthful  sports  of  ‘‘  trabogining  ” and  coasting  down  the 
ice-clad  hillocks  and  drifts  of  snow  by  the  roadside. 

As  has  been  before  observed,  St.  Patrick’s  Day  (March 
17)  is  looked  upon  generally  as  indicating  the  breaking- 
up  of  the  winter  at  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  when  the  wild 
geese  pass  over  in  large  flights ; southerly  weather,  with 
soft  rains  and  fogs,  fast  dissolving  the  snow,  and  rotting 
the  ice  on  the  lakes,  which  lingers  a few  days  longer  in 
dark,  discoloured,  and  honeycombed  patches,  and  finally 
sinks  below  the  surface. 

April  1.  Cold  N.E.  wind,  with  rain  ; large  fields  of 
ice  drifting  past  the  entrance  of  the  harbour. 

2 — 10.  Fine,  but  with  cold  easterly  winds.  Common 
crow  (C.  Americanus)  mated  and  building  in  tall  spruces. 
Also  ravens  (C.  corax)  in  tops  of  lofty  pines  and  rocky 
precipices.  Fox-coloured  sparrow  (F.  iliaca)  arrives. 
Trout  take  the  fly  in  open  water  found  in  runs  between 
lakes. 

15.  Wind  veers  to  the  westward  after  rain,  with 
fine  spring  weather.  Mayflowers  (Epigsea  repens)  in 
flower  abundantly  ; occasional  blossoms  have  been  picked 


324 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


during  the  last  fortnight.  The  small  marsh  frog 
(Hylodes)  is  heard.  Eobins  and  song-sparrow  sing  fre- 
quently. Camberwell  beauty  (Vanessa  antiopa)  about. 
Ice  disappeared  from  lakes. 

20.  Fine  weather  succeeded  by  cold  N.E.  wind  and 
heavy  snowstorm. 

21.  A few  sleighs  out  in  the  streets  in  the  morning; 
snow  disappears  at  noon,  leaving  a sea  of  mud  on  the 
roads. 

22 — 30.  Fine  clear  weather  ; dust  in  the  streets 
towards  close  of  month.  White-bellied  martin  (H. 
bicolse)  arrives  on  23rd  ; the  gold- winged  woodpecker 
(Ficus  auratus)  on  same  date.  Wood  frog  (E.  sylvatica) 
and  common  spring  frog  (E.  fontinalis)  are  heard  to 
croak ; both  are  spawning.  Trout  take  the  artificial 
fiy  readily  in  lakes.  Smelts  ascend  brooks  to  spawn, 
and  are  taken  in  great  numbers  by  scoop  nets.  Dan- 
delions picked  in  fields  and  sold  as  a vegetable. 

May  1 — 3.  Chilly,  with  rain  ; all  vegetation  back- 
ward, owing  to  cold  easterly  weather  till  now  prevailing. 
Wild  gooseberry  in  leaf.  Scarlet  buds  developing  on 
maple.  The  Hylodes  chirp  in  the  evenings. 

4.  Bright  and  warm,  with  westerly  wind.  The  king- 
fisher (Alcedo  alcyon)  arrives  ; also  the  white-throated 
sparrow  (F.  Pennsylvanica),  commonly  called  in  Nova 
Scotia  the  “ poor  Kennedy  bird.”  The  hermit  thrush 
(T.  solitarius)  is  heard.  The  trilling  note  of  the  common 
toad  is  heard  in  the  evening  swelling  the  chorus  of  the 
frogs. 

7 — 11.  Cold  easterly  weather  ; much  ice  off  the 
coast.  Green  snake  (Coluber  vernalis)  observed  sunning 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


325 


on  bank.  Ferns  (Lastrese)  sprouting.  Blue  wood-violet 
flowers,  also  white  variety. 

12.  Clears  up  from  westward  for  fine  weather.  Frogs 
and  toads  very  noisy  in  the  evening.  Eobins,  white- 
throated  sparrow,  and  hermit  thrush  sing  till  8 p.m. 
The  toad  trills  all  day.  May  and  stone  flies  (Ephemerae 
and  Phryganeae)  issue  from  the  water,  and  are  greedily 
devoured  by  trout.  Black  flies  (Simulium  molestum) 
make  their  appearance.  The  light  green  blossoms  of  the 
willow  contrast  prettily  with  the  red  bloom  on  maples  (A. 
rubrum).  Grass  four  or  five  inches  high.  Larches  showing 
light  green  leaves  and  crimson  blossoms.  Waterlilies 
commencing  to  grow  upwards  from  the  bottom  of  ponds. 

13 — 15.  Fine  weather  continues.  Gaspereaiix  (Alosa 
tyrannus)  ascending  stream  to  spawn  in  lakes.  Buffed 
and  Canada  grouse  (Tetrao  umbeUus  and  T.  Canadensis) 
incubating.  Frog  spawn  hatching. 

18.  Fine  weather  continues.  Trout  gorged  with 
Ephemerae  and  refuse  bait.  Gold  thread  (Coptis  trifolia) 
flowering.  Ferns  unfolding.  Fir  cones  of  A.  picea  of  a 
delicate  sea-green  colour. 

20.  Atmosphere  hazy  from  fires  in  the  forest.  Plerons 
(Ardea  Herodias)  arriving  in  flights.  Young  leaves 
tipping  the  blossoms  of  the  red-flowering  maple.  Poplar 
(P.  tremuloides)  in  leaf. 

21.  The  whip-poor-will  (C.  vociferus)  is  heard  in 
copses  on  the  banks  of  the  north-west  arm  of  the 
harbour  ; the  night  hawk  (C.  Virginianus)  on  same 
evening.  Bain  at  night. 

O O 

22.  Shad  (Alosa  sapidissima)  ascends  rivers  to  spawn, 
and  will  sometimes  take  the  artificial  fly.  The  moose- 
bush  (Viburnum  lantanoides)  in  flower ; also  Indian 


326 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


pear  (Amelancliier) ; the  young  leaves  of  the  latter  of 
a rich  bronze  tint.  Light  green  leaves  of  birches  un- 
folding. Pigeon  berry  (Cornus  Canadensis)  in  flower  ; 
also  wild  Azalea  (Khodora  Canadensis). 

23 — 27.  Variable  weather,  with  rains.  Blueberry 
and  whortleberry  (Vaccinise)  in  flower  on  open  barrens. 
Smilacina  bifolia  and  S.  borealis  in  flower  in  fir  woods, 
with  Star  of  Bethlehem  (Trientalis  Americana).  Profuse 
blossoms  on  Indian  pear  and  wild  cherry  (Cerasus  Penn- 
sylvanica). 

28 — 31.  Occasional  showers,  with  thunder  on  the 
31st.  Leaves  and  seed-keys  developed  on  maples.  The 
white  death  flower  (Trillium  pictum)  in  bloom.  The 
flower  of  the  Khodora  now  imparts  a roseate  hue  to  open 
spots  in  the  woods  and  by  the  roadside,  contrasting  most 
pleasingly  with  the  light  green  of  birch  and  larch  leaves 
and  young  fern  fronds. 

June  1.  Warm,  pleasant  weather.  Blossoms  of  service 
tree  and  wild  cherry  fading.  Royal  fern  (Osmunda  regalis) 
in  flower ; also  0.  cinnamomea  and  0.  interrupta.  Yellow- 
throated  frog  assumes  bright  colour,  and  croaks  all  day. 
Young  hares  (first  brood)  about.  Labrador  tea  (Ledum 
latifohum)  and  lady’s  slipper  (Cypripedium)  in  flower. 

2 — 6.  Fine  weather  continues  ; high  winds  from 
westward.  Leaves  of  trees  nearly  developed. 

7.  A splendid  aurora  at  night.  A corona  formed  a 
little  south  of  the  zenith,  to  which  streamers  ascend 
from  all  points  of  the  compass,  though  their  bases  did 
not  approach  the  horizon  to  the  southward.  Hylodes, 
frogs,  and  toads  very  noisy  at  nights.  Young  robins 
leaving  the  nest. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


11.  Fine  weather,  but  cold  for  time  of  year.  The 
Bob  o’  Lincoln  (Emberiza  oryzivora)  in  full  song  in 
pasture  fields. 

15.  Weather  has  become  very  fine  and  warm;  this 
day  the  thermometer  indicates  87°  in  shade.  Linnea 
borealis,  the  twin  flower,  out,  and  imparts  much  fra- 
grance to  the  atmosphere  under  green  woods.  Pollack 
(Merlangus)  arrive  in  bays  and  harbours,  and  take 
.'artificial  fly  on  the  surface  greedily.  Kalmia  angusti- 
folia  coming  into  bloom  ; the  Khodora  fading  off. 

16 — 20.  Warm  sultry  weather,  with  thunder  showers 
on  20th.  Indian  cup  (Sarracenia  purpurea)  flowers  with 
iris,  cranberry,  and  sundew  in  swamps.  Abundance  of 
salmon  exposed  for  sale  in  the  markets. 

22.  Fireflies  (Lampyris  corusca)  are  seen. 

23 — 30.  Variable  weather  : frequent  incursions  of 
fog  from  the  sea,  extending  many  miles  inland.  Wild 
strawberries  ripen  and  are  brought  to  market  in  great 
abundance.  Withrod  in  flower. 

July  5.  Heavy  rain  succeeds  fogg.  The  wood-sorrel 
(Oxalis  acetosella)  in  flower.  Wild  roses  (R.  parviflora) 
out. 

6 — 10.  Very  fine  and  warm  atmosphere  hazy,  with 
strong  smell  of  burning  woods.  Grilse  numerous  in  the 
rivers.  Haymaking  commences. 

12.  Fireflies  very  numerous  in  evenings.  Water- 
lilies,  white  and  yellow,  flowering ; also  arrowhead 
(Sagittaria).  Robins  sitting  on  eggs  of  second  brood. 
Balsam  poplars  (balsamifera)  shedding  their  cotton. 

13 — 21.  Very  fine  and  dry.  Vegetation  suffering 
from  drought ; grass  withering.  Humming-birds  nu- 


323 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


merous.  Summer  flowers  going  off.  Orange  lily  (L. 
Canadense)  flowering  in  intervale  meadows,  and  fire- 
weed  (Epilobium)  in  burnt  woods. 

24.  Still  fine,  with  high  winds.  Extensive  fires  in 
the  woods  fill  the  air  with  smoke  and  obscure  the  sun. 
Grasshoppers  very  numerous.  Wild  currants  ripen. 
Young  woodcock,  partridge,  and  flappers  of  duck 
well  grown.  Wild  cherries  ripening  ; also  blueberries 
(Yaccinium)  on  the  barrens,  with  wild  raspberries’ 
(Rubus  idaeus).  Cargoes  of  sea-birds'  eggs  brought 
to  market  from  the  Gulf  and  sold  for  food.  Garden 
cherries  ripe  and  much  visited  by  waxwings  (Ampelis 
Americana). 

25 — 31.  Uninterruptedly  fine  weather.  Albicore 
(Thynnus  vulgaris)  strike  the  N.W.  arm,  feeding  on 
herring.  House-flies  become  troublesome.  The  cicada 
sings  continually  in  the  woods. 

August  1.  Fine  weather  continues.  Berries  of  Cornus 
Canadensis  ripe  and  very  plentiful;  do.  of  blueberries 
and  Indian  pear.  Great  quantities  of  wild  raspberries 
brought  to  market. 

2 — 10.  Weather  changes  to  wet,  commencing  with 
thunder.  The  rivers;  hitherto  almost  dry,  swell,  and 
salmon,  delayed  by  drought,  ascend. 

11 — 17.  Fine  weather,  with  occasional  showers.  Pas- 
senger pigeons  (Ectopistes  migratorius)  seen  on  barrens 
feeding  on  berries  ; these  birds  are  more  numerous  west- 
ward from  the  coast.  Cariboo  (Cervus  tarandus)  com- 
mence to  rut. 

18.  Golden  plover  (Charadrius  marmoratus)  arrives. 
Nights  become  cooler,  and  houseflies  sluggish. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


329 


19 — 31.  Fine  weather.  Tree  frog  (Hyla  squirrella) 
pipes.  Moose  have  their  horns  developed,  and  rub  off 
deciduous  skin.  Trout  recover  from  their  summer  lassi- 
tude, and  again  take  the  fly.  Fungi  very  numerous  in 
damp  woods,  with  common  mushroom  (Agaricus  cam- 
pestris)  on  grass  plots.  Golden  rods  (Solidago),  Michael- 
mas daisies,  and  spieries  flowering  in  fields  and  barrens ; 
also  the  ground-nut  (Apios  tuberosa)  in  damp  localities 
by  margins  of  lakes  and  brooks.  Blackberries  (Rubus 
hispidus)  ripen,  and  are  brought  to  market.  Maples  and 
birches  in  damp  spots  are  tinged  with  fall  colours. 

REMARKS  ON  THE  FOREGOING  MONTHS. 

The  spring,  comprising  the  months  of  April  and  May 
and  part  of  June,  was  generally  fine,  though  the  long- 
continued  easterly  winds,  coming  over  the  ice-fields  off 
the  coast,  greatly  retarded  vegetation.  This  feature  was 
followed  by  a most  unusual  drought  which  prevailed 
through  the  summer  over  the  whole  continent.  The 
prairies  presented  the  appearance  of  an  arid  desert,  and 
the  large  game  suffered  severely.  On  the  Atlantic  coast 
rivers  and  lakes  were  nearly  dried  up,  and  multitudes  of 
eels  and  other  fish  were  left  dead  on  the  banks.  A laro^e 
proportion  of  the  migratory  fish  spawning  in  summer 
were  prevented  from  reaching  their  grounds. 

The  mean  temperature  of  April  was  36°;  of  May  48°; 
of  June  57°;  of  July  62°  ; and  of  August  64° 

The  summer  in  Canada,  the  Lower  Provinces,  and 
New  England  is  characterised  by  the  remarkable  energy 
of  growth  of  all  vegetation  and  rapidity  of  maturing. 
Garden  operations,  begun  late  in  May,  will  produce  in  a 


330 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


few  weeks  the  same  results  as  if  the  seed  had  been  sown 
in  England  a month  earlier ; and  the  same  rule  applies 
to  general  agriculture.  The  suitableness  of  the  climate 
to  the  growth  of  maize,  tobacco,  and  the  gourd  family 
attests  its  value  in  an  agricultural  light.  The  J erusalem 
artichoke  flowers,  and  tomatoes  and  peppers  produce 
abundantly;  and  in  Nova  Scotia  the  vine  succeeds  so 
well,  that  black  Hamburg  grapes  will  ripen  in  the 
open  air. 

Septemher  1 — 10.  Fine  autumnal  weather.  Apples 
and  fall  fruits  fast  ripening.  Berries  of  mountain  ash 
(Pyrus  Americana)  reddening.  Butting  season  of  Cervus 
Alces  commences.  Woodcock  and  snipe,  partridges 
(Tetrao),  and  hares  brought  to  market,  the  latter  being 
principally  snared.  The  whip-poor-will  and  night-hawk 
leave.  Gold-winged  woodpeckers  congregate  before  de- 
parture. - 

11 — 13.  Heavy  rain-storm,  lasting  two  days,  and 
accompanied  by  thunder-storms. 

14.  Leaves  of  maples  and  other  bushes  resplendent, 
with  orange  and  scarlet  appearing  in  splashes  on  the 
green  leaf.  Brooks  full  and  low  lands  inundated. 
Porcupines  rutting  season  commences.  Moose  travelling 
and  calling.  Scarlet  berries  of  Trillium  pictum  and 
blue  of  Smilacina  borealis  are  very  conspicuous  in  the 
green  woods.  Large  stops  of  fall  mackarel  made  along 
the  coast.  Aj)ples  and  plums  brought  to  market 
abundantly. 

20 — 30.  Dull  weather,  but  generally  fine.  Osmunda 
cinnamomea  assuming  a beautiful  golden-brown  hue. 
Willows  turning  yellow ; also  young  poplars  and  birches. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


331 


Wild  cherry  leaves  partially  tinted  with  crimson.  Sumach 
leaves  parti-coloured : green  and  vivid  orange-scarlet. 
Leaves  of  Vaccinese  becoming  tinted,  especially  those  of 
the  whortleberry.  Slight  frosts  at  night.  The  young 
of  the  Gaspereau  descend  from  the  lakes  (observed  on 
22nd).  Large  deciduous  forest  trees  assume  fall  tints. 
The  hill  sides  are  now  resplendent  with  colour. 

October  3.  Vegetable  decay  in  the  forest  proceeding 
rapidly.  Ferns  withering.  The  leaves  of  young  oaks 
turn  dark  brick  red. 

10.  Fall  colours  fading.  Distant  woods  appear  of  a 
dull  brownish  red.  Fir  cones  ripe.  Eobins  and  hermit 
thrush  sing  at  sunrise,  the  former  feeding  on  berries  in 
flocks,  and  preparing  to  depart. 

19.  Leaves  of  most  deciduous  trees  falling.  Poplars 
nearly  bare.  The  huckleberry  is  now  brilliant  scarlet, 
and  the  larch  turning  golden. 

31.  Migratory  birds  depart. 

November  1.  A beautiful  day,  of  the  same  character 
as  the  last  of  October  : a soft  west  wind  and  hazy 
atmosphere,  quite  Indian  summer  weather.  The  tints 
on  the  landscape  are  charming  ; the  distant  hills  show 
a bght  plum  bloom  ; the  sky  and  water  light  apple 
green. 

5 — 8.  Cold  rains.  Leaves  all  fallen  from  deciduous 
trpes,  excepting  the  beech,  to  which  many  cling  all 
winter. 

11.  Quantities  of  salmon  in  the  market  in  prime 
condition.  They  continue  to  be  brought  in  till 
the  20th. 


332 


FOREST  LIFE  IN  ACADIE. 


12 — 31.  Variable  weather,  with  rain,  sleet,  and  slight 
frosts.  Salmon  spawn. 

December  1.  Snow  birds  (Emberiza  nivalis)  arrive. 
A little  snow  falls  from  S.W. 

2.  Cold  and  wintry ; minimum  cold  at  night  being 
16°  of  frost.  Large  flights  of  wild  geese  passing  over 
to  the  S.AV. 

5.  Skating  on  ponds. 

6 — 17.  Damp,  close,  unseasonable  weather. 

1 9.  Clear.  Cold  weather  recommences. 

20.  The  Barber  appears  on  the  harbour  in  the 
morning — a dense  steam,  due  to  the  great  difference  of 
temperatures  of  air  and  water.  The  mercury  in  after- 
noon descends  to  5°  above  zero,  and  during  ensuing 
night  to  — 1 0° 

21 — 31.  Variable.  Good  skating  on  large  lakes,  and 
ice  making  on  north-west  arm  of  the  sea,  near  the  head. 

REMARKS  ON  THE  FALL  AND  FIRST  WINTER  MONTH. 

The  mean  temperature  of  September  was  56°,  of 
October  46°,'  of  November  39°,  and  of  December  27°. 
There  were  several  days  at  the  close  of  the  fall  v hen 
the  attributes  of  Indian  summer  weather  appeared  ; but 
no  lengthened  season  of  this  delightful  feature  in  the 
American  autumn  occurred  in  Nova  Scotia.  Nor  is 
this  weather  ever  prolonged  here,  as  further  westward, 
where  (in  Canada)  a week  or  ten  days  is  its  frequent 
duration. 

The  song  of  birds  in  the  early  morning  in  the  fall  of 
the  year  has  been  generally  ascribed  to  the  resemblance 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


333 


of  the  temperature  to  that  of  spring.  Perhaps  from  a 
similar  cause  is  the  occurrence  of  autumnal  blossoms  on 
spring-flowering  plants.  In  the  first  week  of  October  I 
have  seen  the  wild  strawberry  in  blossom  in  large 
patches  in  the  woods,  and  also  blossoms  on  the  Kalmia 
and  blueberry. 


APPENDIX. 


The  following  papers  bearing  upon  the  natural  history 
of  the  Lower  Provinces  are  selected  from  several  read  by 
the  Author  before  the  Nova  Scotian  Institute  of  Natural 
Science.  The  Institution  referred  to,  of  which  the 
Author  has  had  the  honour  of  being  a Member  since  its 
inauguration  in  18,63  (latterly  a Vice-President),  has 
done  much  in  exposition  of  the  resources  and  physical 
features  of  the  colonies  of  Nova  Scotia,  New  Bruns- 
wick, Newfoundland,  and  the  Bermudas  under  the  able 
management  of  the  President,  Mr.  John  M.  Jones,  F.L.S. 
The  contributions  of  this  careful  observer  to  the  natural 
history  of  the  latter  islands,  comprised  in  “ The  Naturalist 
in  Bermuda,”*  and  in  several  more  recent  notices,  have 
been  recognised  as  most  valuable,  both  as  a compendium 
of  the  Bermudan  indigenous  and  permanent  Fauna 
and  Flora,  and  also  for  the  observations  therein  con- 
tained on  the  migration  of  North  American  birds,  and 
on  meteorological  subjects.  The  Society  owes  no  less 
of  its  success  to  the  indefatigable  labours  of  Dr.  J. 
Bernard  Gilpin,  M.E.C.S.,  Vice-President,  whose  papers 
on  the  food  fishes  of  Nova  Scotia  have  attracted  much 
attention  amongst  American  naturalists.  To  this  gentle- 
man I am  indebted  for  the  scientific  descriptions  of  the 
game  fish  found  in  this  work. 


“ The  Naturalist  in  Bermuda,”  Reeves  Sc  Turner,  238,  Strand,  1839. 


336 


APPENDIX. 


ON  THE  NOCTURNAL  LIFE  OF  ANIMALS  IN  THE 
FOREST. 

In  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  the  works  of  Humboldt,  entitled 
“ Views  of  Nature,” — a collection  of  thoughts  and  personal  observa- 
tions in  connection  with  some  of  the  grandest  objects  of  nature  in 
various  parts  of  the  world,  visited  by  the  great  naturalist — appears 
an  interesting  fragment,  called  “ The  Nocturnal  Life  of  Animals  in 
the  Primeval  Forest,”  suggesting  to  me  comparative  remarks  on 
animal  life  in  our  own  sombre  woodlands. 

The  great  writer,  in  the  commencement  of  this  chapter,  describes 
the  scene  of  his  observations,  coupled  with  some  decisive  remarks  of 
his  own  on  the  nature  of  a primeval  forest,  which  I think  it  well  to 
introduce  here.  The  scene  is  a boundless  forest  district  which,  in 
the  torrid  zone  of  South  America,  connects  the  river  basins  of  the 
Orinoco  and  the  Amazon.  “ This  region,”  says  Humboldt,  “ deserves, 
in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term,  to  be  called  a primeval  forest — a 
term  that  in  recent  times  has  been  so^  frequently  misapplied. 
Primeval  (or  primitive),  as  applied  to  a forest,  a nation,  or  a period 
of  time,  is  a word  of  rather  indefinite  signification,  and  generally  but 
of  relative  import.  If  every  wild  forest,  densely  covered  with  trees 
on  which  man  has  never  laid  his  destroying  hand,  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a primitive  forest,  then  the  phenomenon  is  common  to  many  parts, 
both  of  the  temperate  and  the  frigid  zones.  If,  however,  this 
character  consists  in  impenetrability,  thiough  which  it  is  impossible 
to  clear  with  the  axe  between  trees  measuring  from  8 to  12  feet  in 
diameter,  a path  of  any  length,  primitive  forests  belong  exclusively 
to  tropical  regions.  This  impenetrability  is  by  no  means,  as  is  often 
erroneously  supposed  in  Europe,  always  occasioned  by  the  interlaced 
climbing  ‘ Hanes,’  or  creeping  plants,  for  these  often  constitute  but 
a very  small  portion  of  the  underwood.  The  chief  obstacles  are  the 
shrub-like  plants  which  fill  up  every  space  between  the  trees  in 
a zone  where  all  vegetable  forms  have  a tendency  to  become 
arborescent.” 

Now,  our  North  American  fir  forests — especially  in  districts  where 
woods  predominate,  and  the  growth  of  timber  is  large— have  so 
frequently  (generally)  been  termed  “ primeval,”  that  we  are  bound 
to  inquire  into  the  justice  of  Humboldt’s  very  decisive  statement  of 
his  own  views  of  the  etymology  of  the  word.  He  claims  the  title  for 
the  South  American  forest  from  its  impenetrability,  and  not  from, 
what  would  seem  to  me  a much  more  distinguishing  feature,  the 


APPENDIX. 


337 


enormous  diameter  and  age  of  its  mighty  trees.  In  regard  to  the 
latter  attribute,  we  should  be  compelled  to  cede  the  appellation  as 
inapplicable  to  our  own  woods,  for,  from  the  natural  duration  of  life 
of  our  timber  trees — even  the  giant  “ Pinus  strobus  ” rarely  showing 
over  1000  annular  rings  in  section — the  oldest  members  of  the  family 
of  North  American  coniferse  cannot  look  back  with  those  ancient 
trees  which  by  some  have  been  placed  coeval  with  the  builders  of  the 
pyramids.  Still,  as  it  is  evident  that  in  the  heart  of  the  great  fir 
forests  of  the  North,  even  in  many  wooded  portions  of  this  Province, 
the  hand  of  man  has  never  stirred  to  remove  the  existing  giants, 
whilst  the  bones  of  their  ancestors  lie  mouldering  and  moss-covered 
beneath,  I cannot  see  why  they  do  not  merit  the  term  primeval — 
not  in  Yon  Humboldt’s  acceptation,  but  according  to  the  ordinary 
recognition  of  its  meaning,  and  as  ‘‘  original,  such  as  was  at  first,” 
says  Johnson. 

To  return  to  the  subject  more  immediately  before  us.  Humboldt 
next  introduces  a beautiful  and  eloquent  description  of  the  night  life 
of  creatures  in  the  forest  by  the  Orinoco — the  wild  cries  of  a host  of 
apes  and  monkeys,  terrified  at  the  uproar  occasioned  by  the  jaguar 
pursuing  crowds  of  peccaries  and  tapirs,  which  burst  through  the 
dense  underwood  with  tremendous  crashing  ; the  voices  of  com- 
munities of  birds,  aroused  by  the  long-continued  conflict  beneath, 
and  the  general  commotion  produced  amongst  the  whole  animal 
world,  rendering  sleep  impossible  of  attainment  on  stormy  nights, 
on  which,  especially,  these  carnivals  appeared  to  be  most  frequent. 

What  a contrast  is  presented  on  entering  the  dreamy  solitudes  of 
the  North  American  pine  forest — sombre  though  it  may  be,  but  yet 
most  attractive  to  the  lover  of  nature — in  the  perfect  harmony  of  its 
mysterious  gloom  and  silence  with  the  life  of  its  animal  tenants, 
their  retiring  and  lonely  habits,  and  their  often  plaintive  and 
mournful  voices  ! Our  perceptions  of  the  harmonies  of  nature  as 
inseparably  connect  the  mournful  hooting  of  the  great  owl  with  the 
glooms  of  the  black  spruce  swamp,  as  we  can  the  tangled  wildness 
and  tropical  vegetation  of  the  South  American  forest  with  the  dis- 
cordant notes  of  its  gaudy  parrots,  and  the  screams  of  its  monkeys. 
Although  almost  all  of  our  mammalia  are  nocturnal  in  their  habits, 
and  many  of  them  beasts  of  prey,  their  nightly  wanderings  and 
strife  with  their  victims  are  conducted  in  the  most  orderly  manner, 
compared  with  the  scenes  we  have  referred  to.  Quiet,  noiseless 
stealth  is  the  characteristic  feature  of  all  animal  life  in  the  forest ; 
mutual  distrust  of  the  same  species,  and  cver-present  tendency  to 


338 


APPENDIX. 


alarm  predominate  even  in  the  •wildest  districts,  where  the  sight  of 
man  is  unknown,  or  at  least  unremembered.  At  the  slightest  sound 
the  ruminants  and  rodents  cease  feeding,  remaining  motionless 
either  from  fear  or  instinct ; the  rabbit  or  hare  thus  frequently 
avoiding  detection,  whilst  the  moose  can  so  silently  withdraw  if 
suspecting  an  enemy,  that  I have  on  more  than  one  occasion 
remained  hours  together  on  the  stillest  night,  believing  the  animal 
to  be  standing  within  a few  yards  in  a neighbouring  thicket,  to 
which  he  had  advanced  in  answer  to  the  call,  and  found  at  length 
that  he  had  suspiciously  retreated.  The  great  creature  had  retired, 
worming  his  huge  bulk  and  ponderous  antlers  through  the  entangled 
swamp,  without  detection  of  the  straining  ear  to  which  the  nibbling 
of  a porcupine  at  the  bark  of  a tree  in  the  same  grove  was  plainly 
audible. 

The  habits  and  sounds  of  animals  at  night  are  especially  familiar 
to  the  hunter  when  calling  the  moose  in  the  clear  moonlight  nights 
of  September  and  October, — the  season  when  this  animal,  forgetting 
his  usual  caution  and  taciturnity,  finds  a voice  to  answer  the  plain- 
tive call  of  his  mate,  and  often  advances  to  sure  destruction,  within 
a few  yards  of  his  concealed  foe.  As  the  sun  lowers  beneath  the 
horizon,  and  twilight  is  giving  place  to  the  uncertain  light  of  the 
moon,  we  listen  between  the  intervals  of  the  Indian’s  calls  (about 
twenty  minutes  is  generally  allowed)  to  the  sounds  indicating  the 
movements  of  nocturnal  animals  and  birds.  The  squirrels  which 
have  raced  around  us  and  angrily  chirruped  defiance  from  the  sur- 
rounding trees,  all  through  the  twilight,  have  at  last  scuttled,  one 
and  all,  into  their  holes  and  fastnesses,  and  the  small  birds  drop, 
one  by  one — the  latest  being  the  common  robin,  who  is  loth  to  leave 
his  rich  pickings  of  ripe  berries  on  the  upland  barren,  on  which  he 
revels  ere  taking  his  annual  departure — into  the  bushes.  No  longer 
annoyed  by  the  multitudinous  hum  and  bustle  of  diurnal  animal 
life,  the  ear  is  now  relieved,  and  anxiously  criticises  the  nocturnal 
sounds  which  take  their  place.  A little  pattering  amongst  the 
leaves,  and  cracking  of  small  sticks  (often  mistaken  by  the  ambushed 
hunter  when  listening  for  sounds  of  moose,  for  the  cautious  move- 
ments of  the  latter  animal),  attests  the  presence  abroad  of  the 
porcupine,  come  forth  from  rocky  cavern  or  hollow  tree  to  revel  on 
berries,  nuts,  and  the  rind  of  young  trees.  A perfect  “ monitor  ” in 
his  coat  of  protecting  armour,  he  fears  neither  the  talons  of  the 
swooping  owl,  or  the  spring  of  the  wild  cat.  Woe  to  the  peace  of 
mind  and  bodily  comfort  of  his  adventurous  assailant,  for  the  barbed 


APPENDIX. 


339 


quills,  once  entering  the  skin,  slowly  worm  their  way  through  the 
system,  and  produce  lingering  suffering,  if  not  death.  Even  the 
moose  is  lamed,  if  not  for  life,  for  a tedious  time,  by  accidentally 
running  over  a “ maduis^'  as  the  Indian  calls  him.  The  porcupine 
is  essentially  nocturnal  in  its  habits,  retiring  at  sunrise  to  its  den  to 
sleep  off  its  midnight  revels,  till  the  “ knell  of  parting  day  ” is  again 
tolled  through  the  arches  of  the  forest  by  the  solemn  war-cry  of  the 
horned  owl. 

All  the  strigidm  are  now  busily  engaged  in  hunting  mice,  shrews, 
and  even  hares,  through  the  darkest  swamps,  and  uttering  at  intervals 
their  melancholy  hootings.  The  call  of  the  cat-owl,  horned,  or  eagle- 
owl  of  America  (B.  Virginianus),  is  one  of  the  most  impressive 
sounds  of  the  forest  at  night.  Coming  on  the  ear  of  the  sojourner 
in  the  woods,  most  frequently  just  before  daylight  appears,  and 
emanating  from  the  dark  recesses  of  a grove  of  hemlock  spruce, 
from  whose  massive  stems  the  sound  re-echoes  through  the  forest, 
the  voice  of  this  bird  is  eminently  suggestive  of  most  melancholy 
solitude  and  ghostliness,  and  one  instinctively  awakens  the  dying 
embers  of  the  camp  fire.  Another  sound  uttered  by  this  bird  on  its 
nocturnal  hunt  is  positively  startling — a maniacal  yell,  terminating 
in  mocking  laughter,  which  it  is  hard  to  believe  can  proceed  from 
the  throat  of  a bird. 

I believe  there  is  nothing  of  its  own  size  that  this  fierce,  powerful 
bird  will  not  venture  to  attack  under  cover  of  the  night.  The  poor 
hare  constantly  falls  a prey;  the  farmer  has  a long  score  to  settle 
with  it,  frequently  losing  his  poultry  — even  geese — through  its 
nocturnal  visits.  An  Indian  recently  told  me  that  the  owl  had 
carried  off  a favourite  little  dog  that  was  of  great  value  in  hunting 
for  partridges.  Whilst  in  confinement,  these  birds  will  prey  on  one 
another. 

The  great  horned  owl  is  not  so  exclusively  nocturnal  as  some 
of  the  other  members  of  the  family.  I have  frequently  started 
them  sitting  on  a branch  exposed  to  open  daylight,  and  noticed  that 
they  were  perfectly  sure  of  flight,  and  readily  found  their  way  to 
another  hiding  place.  Passing  the  dark  wooded  banks  of  the 
Shubenacadie  in  a canoe,  I have  seen  great  numbers  of  them  sitting 
in  the  overhanging  spruces  and  hemlocks. 

Sometimes  a curious  whining  sound,  uttered  at  intervals,  is 
noticeable  at  night  in  the  woods.  It  is  the  note  of  the  “ wdxwmtcli^' 
as  the  Indian  calls  it — Tengmalm’s  owl. 

The  answer  of  the  bull  moose  to  the  Indian’s  plaintive  ringing 


340 


APPENDIX. 


call  on  his  cone  trumpet  of  birch  bark,  if  the  animal  is  distant,  is 
freely  and  quickly  returned.  Eesembling,  at  first,  the  chopping  of 
an  axe  far  away  in  the  woods,  the  sound,  when  nearer,  becomes  more 
distinctly  guttural.  It  is  well  expressed  by  the  monosyllable  “ Quoh  ! ” 
uttered  by  the  Indian  through  the  bark  cone. 

Under  the  most  favouring  circumstances  of  a bright  moon,  and 
the  death-like  stillness  of  a clear  frosty  atmosphere,  the  too  sanguine 
hunter  is  repeatedly  doomed  to  disappointment ; the  animal’s  appre- 
ciation of  his  own  language  frequently  proves  the  best  master  of  the 
craft  to  be  but  a sorry  imitator.  The  moose  on  approaching  the 
ambush,  the  imagined  locality  of  his  hoped-for  mate,  at  length  comes 
to  a dead  stand,  maintaining  the  same  attitude  for  sometimes  a 
couple  of  hours  without  an  audible  movement ; when  the  impatient 
hunter  once  more  ventures  to  allure  him  by  another  call,  he  is  off  in 
silent  though  hasty  retreat. 

As  an  instance,  however,  of  departure  from  their  usual  cautious 
and  quiet  comportment  at  night  on  tlie  part  of  these  animals,  I will 
introduce  here  one  of  my  “Sporting  Adventures,”  published  some 
years  since,  and  what  I heard  one  cold  October  night  in  a very  wild 
and  (then)  almost  unhunted  portion  of  the  country. 

“ Though  it  was  very  cold,  and  my  damped  limbs  were  stiffening 
under  me  from  crouching  so  long  in  the  same  posture,  I could  not 
but  enjoy  the  calmness  and  beauty  of  the  night.  The  moon  was 
very  low,  but  the  columns  of  a magnificent  aurora,  shooting  up  to 
the  zenith,  threw  a mellow  light  on  the  barren,  which,  covered  by 
mist  as  by  a sheet,  appeared  like  a moonlit  lake,  and  the  numerous 
little  clusters  of  dwarfish  spruce  as  islands.  We  had  not  heard  a 
moose  answer  to  our  call  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  were  preparing  to 
move,  when  the  distant  sound  of  a falling  tree  struck  our  ears.  It 
appeared  to  come  from  the  dim  outline  of  forest  which  skirted  the 
barren  on  our  left,  and  at  a great  distance. 

“ Down  we  all  drop  again  in  our  deeply  impressed  couches  to  listen. 
The  sounds  indicate  that  moose  are  travelling  through  the  woods 
and  close  to  the  edge  of  the  barren.  Presently  the  foremost  moose 
is  abreast  of  our  position,  and  gives  vent  to  a wild  and  discordant 
cry.  This  is  the  signal  for  a general  uproar  amongst  the  procession 
of  moose,  for  a whole  troop  of  them  are  following  at  long  and 
cautious  intervals. 

“ The  timber  is  crashing  loudly  opposite  to  our  position,  and  distant 
reports  show  that  more  are  still  coming  on  from  the  same  direction. 
A chorus  of  bellowings  respond  to  the  plaintive  wail  of  the  cow. 


APPENDIX. 


341 


The  branches  are  broken  more  fiercely,  and  horns  are  rapidly  drawn 
across  stems  as  if  to  whet  them  for  the  combat.  Momentarily  I expect 
to  hear  the  crashing  of  rival  antlers.  One  by  one  the  bulls  pass  our 
position,  and  I long  to  get  up  and  dash  into  the  dark  line  of  forest, 
and  with  a chance  shot  scatter  the  procession  ; but  to  do  so  would 
entail  wanton  disturbance  of  the  country  ; so  we  patiently  wait  till 
the  last  moose  has  passed. 

“ Never  before  had  I heard  the  calmness  of  the  night  in  the  Nova 
Scotia  forest  so  disturbed  ; they  had  passed  as  a storm  ; and  now  the 
barren  and  the  surrounding  country  were  once  more  enveloped  in 
the  calm  repose  of  an  autumnal  night,  unbroken,  save  by  the  chirrup 
of  the  snake  in  the  swamp.” 

Of  all  premonitors  of  the  approach  of  a storm,  the  night  voices  of 
the  barred  owl  (Syrnium  nebulosum)  and  the  loon  are  the  surest. 
“ The  ‘ coogogiieslc  ’ is  noisy  again ; more  rain  cornin’,”  says  the 
Indian,  and  whether  we  hear  the  unwonted  chorus  of  wild  hootings 
soon  after  sundown  or  at  daybreak,  the  storm  will  surely  come  within 
twelve  hours.  Such  is  likewise  the  case  in  summer,  when  from  our 
fishing  camps  we  hear  the  plaintive,  quavering  cry  of  the  great 
northern  diver  echoing  over  the  calm  surface,  and  amongst  the 
groups  of  islets  of  the  forest  lakes,  and  quickly  repeated  without 
intermission,  during  the  night.  In  the  autumn,  in  close  damp 
weather,  and  especially  before  rain,  the  little  tree  frog  (Hyla  squir- 
rellus),  rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  a relaxed  skin,  pipes  vigorously 
his  cheerful  note  throughout  the  night,  and  the  Brelc!  B-r-relc!  of  the 
wood-frog  (Rana  sylvatica)  is  heard  from  pools  of  water  standing  in 
hollows  in  the  forest.  A sound  that  has  always  been  pleasant  to  my 
ears  when  lying  amongst  the  low  bushes  on  the  open  barren,  is  the 
Chinlzl  chink!  chink!  of  the  little  chain  mouse  as  he  gambols  around. 
It  is  a faint  silvery  tinkling,  as  might  be  produced  by  shaking  the 
links  of  a small  chain,  whence  his  common  name. 

The  little  Acadian  owl,  commonly  called  the  “ saw-whet  ” (Ulula 
Acadica),  is  not  uncommon  in  our  woods,  uttering  morning  and  even- 
ing its  peculiar  and  (until  known)  mysterious  tinkling  sound  from 
the  thickest  groves  of  spruces.  In  one  of  these  I once  captured  a 
specimen  just  about  sundown,  when  proceeding  to  a barren  to  call 
moose.  The  Indian  made  a noose  on  the  top  of  a long  wattle,  and 
after  a little  manoeuvring,  during  which  the  bird  kept  hovering  round 
us,  hissing  and  setting  up  its  wings  and  feathers  in  great  anger,  he 
got  it  over  its  neck  and  secured  it  without  injury.  This  little  owl, 
just  turning  the  scale  at  two  ounces,  will  actually  attack  and  kill  a rat. 


342 


APPENDIX. 


Wherever  there  is  mystery  there  lies  a charm ; and  to  this 
elFect  expresses  himself  Mr.  Gosse,  who  thus  speaks  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  cry  of  the  saw-whet  in  his  “Romance  of 
Natural  History : ” 

“ In  the  forests  of  Lower  Canada  and  the  New  England  States,  I 
have  often  heard  in  spring  a mysterious  sound,  of  which,  to  this  day, 
I do  not  know  the  author.  Soon  after  night  sets  in,  a metallic 
sound  is  heard  from  the  most  sombre  forest  swamps,  where  the  spruce 
and  the  hemlock  give  a peculiar  density  to  the  wood,  known  as  the 
black  growth.  The  sound  comes  up  clear  and  regular,  like  the  mea- 
sured tinkle  of  a cow  bell,  or  gentle  strokes  on  a piece  of  metal,  or 
the  action  of  a file  upon  a saw.  It  goes  on,  with  intervals  of  inter- 
ruption, throughout  the  hours  of  darkness.  People  attribute  it  to  a 
bird  which  they  call  the  whetsaw,  but  nobody  pretends  to  have  seen 
it,  so  that  this  can  only  be  considered  conjecture,  though  a highly 
probable  one.  The  monotony  and  pertinacity  of  this  note  had  a 
strange  charm  for  me,  increased,  doubtless,  by  the  uncertainty  of  its 
origin.  Night  after  night  it  would  be  heard  in  the  same  spot, 
invariably  the  most  sombre  and  gloomy  recesses  of  the  black  timbered 
woods.  I occasionally  watched  for  it,  resorting  to  the  woods  before 
sunset,  and  waiting  till  darkness  ; but,  strange  to  say,  it  refused  to 
perform  under  such  conditions.  The  shy  and  recluse  bird,  if  bird  it 
was,  was,  doubtless,  aware  of  the  intrusion,  and  on  its  guard.  Once 
I heard  it  under  peculiarly  wild  circumstances.  I was  riding  late  at 
night,  and,  just  at  midnight,  came  to  a very  lonely  part  of  the  road, 
where  the  black  forest  rose  on  either  side.  Everything  was  pro- 
foundly still,  and  the  measured  tramp  of  my  horse’s  feet  on  the 
frozen  road  was  felt  as  a relief  to  the  deep  and  oppressive  silence ; 
when  suddenly,  from  the  sombre  woods,  rose  the  clear  metallic  tinkle 
of  the  whetsaw.  The  sound,  all  unexpected  as  it  was,  was  very 
striking,  and  though  it  was  bitterly  cold,  I drew  up  for  some  time  to 
listen  to  it.  In  the  darkness  and  silence  of  the  hour,  that  regularly 
measured  sound,  proceeding,  too,  from  so  gloomy  a spot,  had  an 
effect  on  my  mind  solemn  and  unearthly,  yet  not  unmixed  with 
pleasure.” 

There  is  a bird  that,  long  after  sundown,  and  when  the  moose- 
caller  begins  to  feel  chilled  by  long  watching  on  the  frosty  barren, 
will  rush  past  him  with  such  velocity  as  to  leave  no  time  to  catch  a 
certain  view  of  its  size  or  form.  It  passes  close  to  the  ground,  and 
with  the  whizzing  sound  of  an  arrow.  Almost  every  night,  whilst 
thus  watching,  I have  noticed  this  bird  ; can  it  be  the  night  hawk  ? 


APPENDIX. 


343 


But  October  is  late  for  so  tender  a bird  ; the  latest  day  in  which  I 
have  observed  it  in  Nova  Scotia,  was  the  28th  September. 

Another  mysterious  sound  which  many  of  the  Indian  hunters  con- 
nect with  superstition,  and  attribute  to  spirits  of  the  Orpheonistic 
description,  is  that  curious,  rushing  sound  of  music — an  indescribable 
melodious  rustling  in  the  calm  atmosphere  of  a still  October  night, 
with  which  the  ear  of  the  moose-hunter  becomes  so  well  acquainted. 
Most  probably  the  cause  exists  in  the  tension  of  the  nerves  of  that 
organ. 

The  fierce  yell  of  the  lucifee,  and  the  short  sharp  bark  of  the  fox, 
are  often  heard  in  wild  parts  of  the  country : they  are  both  in 
pursuit  of  the  unfortunate  hare,  which  falls  a frequent  prey  to  so 
many  of  the  carnivorae  and  raptores.  I once  heard  the  startling  cry 
of  the  former  close  to  my  head,  whilst  reposing  in  the  open,  after  a 
night’s  moose-calling  away  from  camp.  Its  bounds  upon  its  prey, 
having  stealthily  crept  to  within  sight,  are  prodigious  : I have  mea- 
sured them  as  over  twenty  feet  in  the  snow. 

I have  always  noticed  that  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  there 
appears  to  be  a general  cessation  of  movement  of  every  living  crea- 
ture in  the  woods.  Often  as  I have  strolled  from  camp  into  the 
moonlight  at  this  time,  I never  ^ could  detect  the  slightest  sound — 
even  the  owls  seemed  to  have  retired.  The  approach  of  dawn,  how- 
ever, seems  to  call  forth  fresh  exertions  of  the  nocturnal  animals  in 
quest  of  food,  and  all  the  cries  and  calls  are  renewed — continuing  till 
the  first  signs  of  Aurora  send  the  owls  flitting  back  into  the  thick 
tops  of  the  spruces,  and  call  forth  the  busy  squirrels  and  small 
birds  to  their  daily  occupation. 

Once,  and  only  once,  did  I hear  the  little  red  squirrel  utter  his 
wrathful  chirrup  at  night — a bad  sign,  say  the  Indians  ; they  firmly 
believe  that  it  prognosticates  the  death  of  one  of  their  friends. 
Neither  does  the  chip-munk  or  striped  ground  squirrel  come  out  at 
night ; the  only  member  of  the  family  of  nocturnal  habits  is  the 
flying  squirrel,  a rare  but  most  beautiful  little  creature.  Lying  in 
an  open  camp,  I once  saw  its  form  sail  in  a curved  line  from  tree  to 
tree  in  the  moonlight. 

Of  night  songsters  amongst  our  small  birds  we  have  few  examples. 
The  whip-poor-will  is  our  only  systematic  nightingale,  if  we  may 
call  him  so.  Arriving  in  June,  and  choosing  the  pleasantest  retreat, 
in  copses,  by  picturesque  intervales,  and  generally  preferring  the 
neighbourhood  of  man,  the  plaintive  song  of  this  bird  is  strongly 
associated  with  the  charms  of  a summer’s  evening  in  the  country. 


344 


APPENDIX. 


Occasionally,  howeyer,  the  white-throated  spaiTow,  or  the  common 
peabiddj  bird  (F.  Pennsjlvanica)  strikes  up  his  piping  note  at 
yarious  times  of  the  night,  and  is  often  heard  when  the  surrounding 
woods  are  suddenly  lighted  up  by  the  application  of  fresh  fuel  to 
the  camp  fire.  The  Indians  say  that  he  sings  eyery  hour.  The 
exquisite  flute-like  warblings  of  the  hermit  thrush  (T.  solitarius)  are 
often  prolonged  far  into  the  fine  nights  of  early  summer.  As  a 
general  impression,  howeyer,  the  pleasing  notes  of  song  birds  are 
foreign  to  the  interior  solitudes  of  the  great  fir  forest,  whose  gloom 
is  appropriately  enhanced  by  the  wilder  and  more  mournful  yoices 
of  predatory  birds  and  animals.  With  these  imperfect  remarks,  I 
close  the  present  sketch  on  the  night  life  of  animals  in  the  woods. 


The  following  is  a fragment  of  a Paper  read  by  the 
Author  before  the  Nova  Scotian  Institute  of  Natural 
Science  on  Acclimatisation.  A large  proportion  of  the 
matter  contained  therein  has  been  omitted  as  irrelative 
to  the  objects  of  this  work. 

ACADIAN  ACCLIMATISATION. 

Haying  thus  adyerted  to  the  deyeloprnent  of  “Applied  Natural 
History  ” in  other  parts  of  the  world  as  a practical  science,  and  the 
satisfactory  results  which  haye  already  attended  such  efforts,  we  now 
come  to  consider  the  proper  subject  of  this  paper — the  question  of 
Acclimatisation  as  applicable  to  Noya  Scotia.  I haye  so  far  drawn 
attention  to  the  adyances  made  by  the  antipodal  colonists  in  this 
direction,  to  show  how  the  objections  of  distance,  expense,  and  un- 
certainty of  results,  haye  all  been  put  aside  for  ends  thought  worthy 
of  such  sacrifices.  But  Australia  was  a country  craying  animal 
immigration,  her  large  and  wealthy  population  demanding  many  of 
the  absent  table  luxuries  of  the  old  world,  and  her  youth  eager  for 
the  time  when  the  boundless  forests  and  grassy  plains  should  abound 
with  the  stag  or  roe,  in  place  of  the  monotonous  marsupials  which  as 
yet  had  afforded  the  only  material  for  the  chase.  In  Atlantic 
America,  on  the  contrary,  instead  of  haying  to  supplant  the  in- 
digenous animals,  we  possess,  in  a state  of  nature,  some  of  the  noblest 
forms  of  animal  life,  which,  no  longer  required  to  supply  the  abori- 
ginal Indians  with  their  sole  means  of  subsistence,  may  be  called  on, 


APPENDIX. 


345 


with  that  moderation  which  should  always  characterise  a civilised 
people,  to  afford  both  the  invigorating  pleasures  of  sport  and  luxuries 
for  the  market.  Every  stream  and  lake  abounds  with  trout,  and 
there  are  but  few  rivers  from  Cape  Sable  to  the  Labrador  which  the 
salmon  does  not  annually  attempt  to  ascend. 

What,  then,  is  to  be  desired  ? Has  not  America,  receiving  from 
the  east  all  those  useful  animals  which  accompany  man  in  his  migra- 
tions, and  which,  returning  to  a state  of  nature  in  the  plains  of 
Mexico  and  South  America,  have  multiplied  so  greatly  as  to  afford  a 
staple  product  for  exportation,  giving  all  imaginable  luxuries  to  the 
new-coming  nations  in  the  produce  of  her  forests,  prairies,  rivers,  and 
sea  coasts  ? Yes,  but  the  gift  has  been  abused.  It  is  sad  to  con- 
template the  wanton  destruction  of  game  and  game  fish  throughout 
the  northern  continent  since  its  first  settlement  by  Europeans  : many 
animals,  now  on  the  verge  of  extinction,  driven  off  their  still  large 
domains,  not  primarily  by  the  approach  of  civilisation,  but  by  ruth- 
less, wholesale,  and  wanton  modes  of  destruction.  “ One  invariable 
peculiarity  of  the  American  people,”  says  the  author  of  “ The  Game 
Fish  of  the  North,”  “ is  that  they  attack,  overturn,  and  annihilate, 
and  then  laboriously  reconstruct.  Our  first  farmers  chopped  down 
the  forests  and  shade  trees,  took  crop  after  crop  of  the  same  kind 
from  the  land,  exhausted  the  soil,  and  made  bare  the  country  ; they 
hunted  and  fished,  destroying  first  the  wild  animals,  then  the  birds, 
and  finally  the  fish,  till  in  many  places  these  ceased  utterly  from  the 
face  of  the  earth  ; and  then,  when  they  had  finished  their  work,  that 
race  of  gentlemen  moved  west  to  renew  the  same  course  of  destruc- 
tion. After  them  came  the  restorers  ; they  manured  the  land,  left  it 
fallow,  put  in  practice  the  rotation  of  crops,  planted  shade  and  fruit 
trees,  discovered  that  birds  were  useful  in  destroying  insects  and 
worms,  passed  laws  to  protect  them  where  they  were  not  utterly 
extinct,  as  with  the  pinnated  grouse  of  Pennsylvania  and  Long 
Island,  and  will,  I predict,  ere  long  re-stock  the  streams,  rivers,  and 
ponds,  with  the  best  of  the  fish  that  once  inhabited  them.” 

A home  question  for  our  subject  would  be, — In  the  hands  of  which 
class  of  men  does  this  colony  now  find  itself  ? And  I fear  the  un- 
hesitating answer  of  the  impartial  stranger  and  visitor  would  be, 
that  in  all  regarding  the  preservation  of  our  living  natural  resources, 
w’e  were  in  the  hands  of  the  destroyers.  The  course  of  destruc- 
tion so  ably  depicted  by  the  author  quoted,  is  being  prosecuted 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Nova  Scotia,  and  the  settlers 
of  this  province,  blind  to  their  own  interests,  careless  of  their  children’s. 


346 


APPENDIX. 


and  utterly  regardless  of  restraint  imposed  by  the  laws  of  the  country, 
worse  than  useless  because  not  carried  out,  are  bringing  about  the 
final  depopulation  of  our  large  wild  areas  of  land  and  water.  It  really 
becomes  a question  as  to  whether  late  interference  shall  arrest  the 
tide  of  destruction  ere  the  entire  extennination  of  fish  and  game 
shall  bring  the  country  to  a sense  of  its  loss,  and  finally  to  a wish  for 
their  reproduction. 

In  such  a state  of  affairs,  provincial  acclimatisation  would  prove 
an  empty  speculation,  for  any  new  animal  or  bird  introduced  into 
our  woodlands  requiring  freedom  from  molestation  for  a term  of 
years,  would  be  quickly  hunted  down  and  destroyed. 

Leaving,  however,  these  important  questions  of  protection  or 
extinction  of  already-existing  indigenous  species  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  hold  the  means  of  ordering  these  matters,  I will  now  call  your 
attention  to  what  might  be  done  to  increase  our  stock  of  useful  wild 
or  domestic  animals,  birds  or  fish,  could  they  be  ensured  the  necessary 
wardship.  We  will  consider  first  whether  our  large  woodland  districts 
demand  and  would  bear  foreign  colonisation,  and  for  what  types  their 
physical  conformation  seems  best  adapted. 

Even  in  its  most  undisturbed  and  wildest  depths  the  North 
American  forest  has  always  been  noted  for  its  solitude  ; the  meaning 
being  the  great  disproportion  of  the  animal  to  the  vegetable  king- 
dom. It  seems  as  if  nature  had  exhausted  her  energies  in  shading 
the  gTound  with  the  dense  forest  and  the  rank  vegetation  which 
everywhere  seizes  on  the  rough  surface  beneath.  It  is  impossible  to 
say  to  what  extent  animal  life  might  have  once  existed  in  the  primeval 
forest ; but  no  one  who  has  taken  a day’s  walk  in  the  woods,  either 
near  to  or  far  from  the  haunts  of  man,  can  fail  being  impressed  with 
the  apparent  absence  of  animal  life.  The  European  visitor,  in  a 
suburban  ramble  through  the  bush,  wonders  at  the  scarcity  of  game 
birds,  rabbits,  or  hares,  but  is  astonished  when  told  that  in  the 
deepest  recesses  of  the  wild  country  he  will  see  but  little  increase  of 
their  numbers.  A canoe  paddled  through  lake  after  lake  of  our 
great  highways  of  water  communication,  will  startle  but  a few  pairs 
or  broods  of  exceedingly  timid  waterfowl,  where  in  Europe  they 
would  literally  swarm.  Surely,  then,  here  is  room  for  the  work  of 
acclimatisation,  in  a countiy  where  so  much  toil  is  undergone  in  the 
often  fruitless  pursuit  of  sport. 

The  undergrowth  of  our  wild  forest  lands,  the  field  for  acclima- 
tisation which  we  have  under  immediate  consideration,  consists  of 
an  immense  variety  of  shrubs,  under-slirubs,  and  herbs,  annual  or 


APPENDIX. 


347 


perennial.  The  under-shrubs  generally  bear  the  various  descriptions 
of  berries,  and  with  great  profusion.  There  are,  here  and  there,  wdld 
pastures,  or  intervales,  by  the  edge  of  sluggish  water,  but  they  bear 
but  a small  proportion  to  the  woodlands  ; the  bogs  and  barrens  pro- 
duce moss  in  abundance,  and  of  the  kind  found  in  every  part  of  the 
world  where  the  reindeer  is  indigenous,  or  has  been  successfully  intro- 
duced, as  in  Iceland. 

We  find,  accordingly,  that  our  largest  ruminant,  the  moose-deer, 
is,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  a wood-eater  ; whilst  our  other 
animal  representing  this  class,  the  American  reindeer,  or  cariboo,  is 
found  in  those  portions  of  the  province  where  large  and  seldom  dis- 
turbed plains  and  bogs  afford  him  his  favourite  moss,  the  lichen 
rangiferinus.  As  amongst  the  larger  animals,  ruminants  alone 
offer  a selection  for  introduction  into  a forest  country  with  the 
physical  attributes  of  Nova  Scotia,  we  may  ask  if  there  is  any  other 
animal  of  the  deer  tribe  which  might  be  successfully  acclimatised 
here.  The  answer  comes  through  careful  consideration  of  the  fauna 
and  flora  of  other  regions  compared  with  our  own.  The  field 
naturally  presenting  itself  for  this  research  lies  in  the  forest  districts 
of  America  further  west,  and  in  northern  Europe,  which,  under 
similar  climatic  influences,  presents  a strong  analogy  to  this  portion 
of  the  globe,  especially  on  its  western  seaboard  ; the  forest  trees  and 
shrubs,  the  larger  animals,  the  birds  and  the  fish  of  Norway  and 
Sweden,  are  almost  reproduced  in  British  North  America  ; indeed, 
distinction  of  species  in  many  cases  is  far  from  established. 

The  common  deer  (Cervus  Yirginianus),  then,  of  Maine  and  the 
Canadas,  and  more  recently  of  New  Brunswick  by  spontaneous  accli- 
matisation, or  perhaps  rather  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  wolf, 
appears  to  be  perfectly  adapted  for  an  existence  in  the  Nova  Scotian 
woods — a graceful  species,  but  little  inferior  to  the  red  deer  of 
Europe,  affording  the  excellent  venison  with  which  the  New  York 
and  Boston  markets  are  so  well  supplied.  The  climate  of  Nova 
Scotia,  allowing  so  little  snow  to  accumulate  in  the  woods  until  the 
close  of  the  winter,  would  prove  a great  safeguard  against  the  whole- 
sale'destruction  with  which  it  meets  in  Maine  and  New  Brunswick, 
where  it  is  continually  in  a most  helpless  condition  from  the  depth  of 
snow  throughout  the  winter.  Indeed,  it  is  already  with  us,  for  a 
small  herd  of  healthy  animals  may  now  be  seen  at  Mr.  Do\vns’ 
gardens,  to  whom  the  country  is  already  indebted  for  many  an  un- 
assisted attempt  at  real  practical  acclimatisation.* 

* Mr.  Andrew  Downs,  Naturalist,  N.  W.  Arm,  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia. 


348 


APPENDIX, 


It  is  well  known  that  both  the  buffalo  and  the  elk  (C.  wapiti) 
formerly  had  an  extensive  range  to  the  north-east.  The  latter 
animal,  now  mainly  found  on  the  Yellowstone  and  Upper  Missouri 
rivers,  once  inhabited  the  forests  of  the  Saguenay.  Baird  says  it  has 
a gi’eater  geographical  distribution  than  any  other  American  deer  ; 
and,  according  to  Richardson,  it  can  exist  as  far  as  57  deg.  north. 
Doubtless  it  would  thrive  in  the  Xova  Scotian  or  New  Brunswick 
forests.  The  wapiti  thrives  in  the  Zoological  Society’s  gardens  in 
England,  where  it  annually  reproduces ; and  large  herds  of  this 
noble  animal  are  being  transported  from  America  to  the  north  of 
Italy  by  His  Majesty  King  Victor  Emmanuel.  Thirty  were  recently 
awaiting  departure  from  Xew  York  at  the  same  time. 

The  only  other  ruminant  on  the  list  of  this  order,  indigenous  to 
climates  similar  to  our  own,  is  the  hardy  little  roe-deer  or  roebuck, 
common  in  the  beech  woods  of  northern  Europe.  I am  confident 
that  this  animal  would  thrive  in  the  extensive  beech  forests  of  Cum- 
berland ; and  as  it  seems  to  live  and  thrive  close  to  civilisation,  it 
would  find  ample  room  and  food  in  our  suburban  copses  and  un- 
cleared barrens.  Descending  in  the  scale  of  animal  classification, 
the  next  selections  for  consideration  of  a future  Acclimatisation 
Society  in  this  country,  as  adapted  to  live  and  multiply  and  become 
profitable  in  the  woodlands,  seem  to  be  offered  in  the  prolific  order 
Rodentia,  of  which  many  families  are  already  indigenous — the  squirrel, 
beaver,  porcupine,  and  American  hare,  commonly  known  as  the  rabbit. 
The  first  of  these  might  receive  an  interesting  accession  by  the  intro- 
duction of  the  black  and  grey  squirrels  of  Canada  and  the  States  ; 
the  beaver,  porcupine,  and  woodchuck,  are  all  prized  by  the  hunter 
as  food,  lacking  the  supply  of  venison,  and  the  hare,  persecuted 
though  it  be  by  human,  furred,  and  feathered  foes,  is  still  so  prolific 
and  common,  as  to  form  a great  portion  of  the  winter  subsistence  of 
both  settlers  and  the  poor  of  this  city.  Indeed,  when  we  enumerate 
its  enemies  of  the  animal  creation,  which  almost  altogether  live  upon 
it,  the  lynx  and  wild  cat,  the  foxes,  the  horned  owl,  the  marten,  and 
the  weasel,  and  take  into  consideration  the  numbers  which  are  taken 
by  man,  by  snaring  them  in  their  easily  discovered  paths  to  and  from 
their  feeding  grounds  in  the  swamps,  it  is  wonderful  that  they  still 
remain  so  plentiful.  A great  objection  to  the  flesh  of  the  American 
hare,  however,  is  its  insipidity  and  toughness,  except  when  taken 
young.  Far  more  delicate  and  esteemed  is  that  of  the  Spanish,  or 
domestic,  and  common  wild  English  rabbit  (Lepus  cuniculus),  and  it 
would  seem  that  both  are  of  a sufficiently  hardy  constitution  to  stand 


APPENDIX. 


349 


the  rigours  of  our  winter.  The  former  is  already  an  acclimatised 
inhabitant  of  the  sandbanks  of  Sable  Island,  according  to  Dr.  Gilpin, 
having  been  introduced  by  the  Honourable  Michael  Wallace,  and 
increased  amazingly,  affording  the  islanders  many  a fresh  dinner 
when  salt  junk  is  plenty  and  fresh  beef  scarce.  IXo  easier  experi- 
ment could  be  made  in  applied  natural  history  than  the  extensive 
breeding  of  the  common  grey  rabbit  by  some  resident  near  town, 
whose  premises  bordered  on  uncleared  bush  or  scrub.  To  commence, 
a large  bank  of  loosely  piled  earth  and  stone  might  be  made,  here 
and  there  perforated  by  a length  or  so  of  suitable  tubing,  such  as 
used  for  drains,  the  bank  enclosed  by  wire  netting,  and  a few  pairs  of 
rabbits  turned  in.  They  would  soon  tunnel  the  bank  in  all  directions, 
and  as  the  families  increased  they  might  be  allowed  to  escape  into 
the  neighbourhood.  A fair  warren  once  established  would  be  the 
means  of  a quick  colonisation  of  the  surrounding  country.  And  the 
true  rabbit,  living  so  constantly  under  ground,  would  enjoy  much 
greater  security  from  animals  and  birds  of  prey  than  his  indigenous 
congeners. 

Still  keeping  in  view  the  acclimatisation  of  creatures  intended  to 
exist  in  a state  of  nature,  and  not  for  domestication — a division  of  the 
subject  which  appears  to  be  most  feasible  and  best  adapted  to  the 
condition  of  this  province — let  us  next  turn  to  the  birds. 

We  have  already  existing  in  our  woods  as  game  birds,  two  species 
of  Tetraonidm — the  T.  umbellus,  or  the  ruffed  grouse,  and  the 
T.  Canadensis,  or  spruce  partridge — as  permanent  residents  ; and,  as 
summer  visitors,  the  two  North  American  Scolopacidm,  the  woodcock 
and  snipe.  There  is  but  one  representative  of  the  Phasianidae  in 
North  America,  the  only  gift  of  the  new  to  the  old  world,  whence  the 
domestic  race  has  sprung,  and  that  is  the  wild  turkey.  It  certainly 
would  appear  that  our  large  woodland  solitudes  offer  especial  facilities 
for  the  introduction  of  some  new  members  of  the  grouse  family, 
birds  especially  formed  for  existence  in  cold  climates.  Formerly 
common  in  the  Scotch  pine  forests,  now  only  to  be  met  with  in 
abundance  in  the  north  of  Europe,  in  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Kussia, 
the  magnificent  capercailzie,  or  cock  of  the  wood  (T.  urogallus), 
equalling,  in  the  case  of  the  male  bird,  the  turkey  in  size,  presents 
so  tempting  an  experiment  that  it  should  be  almost  introduced 
regardless  of  expense.  A bird  inhabiting  so  widely  the  fir  woods  of 
subarctic  Europe  and  Asia,  would  surely  succeed  if  transplanted  to 
the  corresponding  region  of  North  America.  It  appears  to  feed 
exclusively  on  pine  shoots.  Mr.  Bernard,  author  of  a recent  work 


350 


APPENDIX. 


called  “ Sport  in  Norway,”  says  it  is  still  common  in  all  large  forest 
districts  in  that  country.  I believe  this  bird  loves  solitude,  and 
surely  he  would  find  it,  if  essential  to  his  existence,  in  some  of  the 
great  expanses  of  coniferous  forest  which  still  prevail  in  most  por- 
tions of  Nova  Scotia.  Next  in  size  and  beauty  might  be  selected 
the  black  game  (T.  tetrix)  of  the  wilder  portions  of  the  British  Isles, 
and  numerous  in  Norway,  where  it  is  stated  they  not  unfrequently 
cross  with  the  capercailzie.  This  bird  is  known  to  subsist  on  the 
buds  of  the  alder  and  birch,  on  the  berries  of  the  whortleberry,  blue- 
berry, and  juniper,  and  on  the  bog  cranberry,  all  of  which  are  so 
abundant  in  our  woods,  and  of  almost  identical  species.  A successful 
introduction  of  this  bold,  handsome  grouse,  would  add  great  interest 
to  the  wild  sports  on  the  open  barrens.  The  hazel  hen  of  northern 
Europe  (T.  bonasia),  reported  to  be  the  best  fleshed  bird  of  the 
grouse  tribe,  is  another  association  of  a country  in  which  spruce  woods 
abound.  It  is  exceedingly  like  our  birch  partridge  in  appearance — 
a little  smaller,  and  wanting  the  ruff ; like  the  latter,  also,  its  flesh  is 
white.  There  are  many  other  northern  grouse  in  both  the  old  and 
new  worlds,  but  none  that  I should  import  as  so  likely  to  succeed, 
and  as  such  valuable  acquisitions,  as  the  capercailzie  and  the  blackcock. 

With  the  circumstance  of  the  introduction  and  breeding  of  the 
English  and  gold  and  silver  pheasants  at  Mr.  Downs’  establishment 
W’e  are  all  acquainted ; and  a most  interesting  fact  is  the  well- 
ascertained  capability  of  the  English  pheasant  to  live  and  And  its 
own  subsistence  in  our  woods  through  a rigorous  winter,  whilst  the 
latter  birds,  left  out  at  night  by  accident,  have  apparently  suffered 
little  inconvenience  by  roosting  in  a fir  tree,  exposed  to  a strong 
wind,  accompanied  by  the  intense  cold  of  — 16°.  Mliy  should  not 
this  experiment  be  continued  ? 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  those  troops  of  little  songsters  with  which 
the  fields  of  England  abound,  and  which  have  been  carefully  acclima- 
tised in  Australia  for  old  association  sake,  would  die  on  the  first 
near  approach  of  the  mercury  to  zero.  Those  that  are  imported, 
comprising  thrushes,  skylarks,  flnches,  &c.,  are  closely  kept  within 
doors.  Mr.  Downs  has  two  pairs  of  the  European  jackdaw,  which 
he  hopes  will  increase  in  his  neighbourhood.  These  interesting  and 
garrulous  little  members  of  the  family  Corvidae,  whose  young  every 
English  boy  covets  to  obtain  and  educate  to  the  acquisition  of  rudi- 
mentary speech,  would  find  but  few  ivy-mantled  towers  or  venerable 
steeples  in  which  to  build  their  nests  ; but  when  Gilbert  White 
informs  us  that  for  want  of  church  steeples  they  will  build  under 


APPENDIX. 


351 


ground  in  rabbit  burrows,  the  new-comers  would  not  be  long  in 
devising  a remedy  for  the  defect.  The  common  English  house- 
sparrow,  thoroughly  acclimatised,  and  abundant  in  New  York,  would, 
doubtless,  do  as  well  in  this  neighbourhood. 

As  a second  consideration  in  connection  with  this  wide  subject, 
let  us  inquire  whether  any  good  purpose  could  be  answered  by  an 
attempt  at  domestication  or  semi-domestication  of  our  indigenous 
ruminants,  the  moose  and  the  cariboo.  When  we  consider  that 
these  two  species  are  found  throughout  the  old  world,  under  the 
same  conditions  of  climate  and  vegetation  which  attend  them  in  the 
new,  it  appears  unaccountable  that  we  have  no  historic  records  of  the 
subjugation  of  the  cariboo  for  domestic  purposes  by  the  primitive 
Indians  of  the  northern  coasts  of  America,  as  this  animal  has  been 
applied  from  time  immemorial  by  the  Lapps. 

An  eminent  naturalist.  Dr.  Gray,  in  delivering  his  address  in  the 
Nat.  Hist.  Section  at  the  late  meeting  of  the  British  Association  at 
Bath,  thus  alludes  to  the  latter  fact : — “ The  inhabitants  of  the  arctic 
or  sub-arctic  regions  of  Europe  and  Asia  have  partially  domesticated 
the  reindeer  ; and  either  Asiatics  have  peculiar  aptitude  for  domesti- 
cating animals,  or  the  ruminants  of  that  part  of  the  world  are 
peculiarly  adapted  for  domestication ; ” * and  he  then  instances  a 
variety  of  exemplifications,  in  their  having  domesticated  the  yak  in 
the  mountain  regions  of  Thibet  and  Siberia,  the  camel  and  drome- 
dary in  central  Asia,  in  southern  Asia  the  zebra,  and  in  the  Malayan 
archipelago  various  species  of  buffalo  and  wild  cattle.  It  may  be 
stated,  that  modern  discovery  has  placed  the  original  home  of  the 
reindeer  in  the  high  Alps  of  central  Asia,  whence  these  animals, 
followed  by  their  ever-accompanying  human  associates,  the  Lapps, 
migrated  to  the  north-west  of  Europe.  As  a beast  of  burden,  how- 
ever, to  traverse  those  treeless  wastes  answering  to  the  snow-covered 
barrens  of  Lapland,  the  dog  seems  to  have  answered  all  the  purposes 
of  the  Esquimaux  and  other  arctic- American  tribes,  whilst  in  more 
southerly  and  wooded  regions,  a sledge-drawing  animal  would  have 
no  scope  or  sphere  of  employment.  And,  viewing  the  ai^imals  in  this 
light,  the  horse  and  the  ox  which  have  accompanied  Europeans, 

* Ennan  in  his  Siberian  travels  frequently  speaks  of  the  passionate  desire 
evinced  by  the  reindeer  for  human  urine  as  the  acknowledged  means  of  success 
adopted  by  the  Osty  aks,  Samoyeds  and  Tunguzes,  in  domesticating  this  animal , 
otherwise  naturally  so  shy  and  averse  to  the  presence  of  man.  The  new  life 
apparently  acquired  by  the  deer  on  a journey,  after  gratifying  this  strange 
appetite,  is  attributed  by  the  same  author  to  the  stimulus  afforded  by  the 
ammoniacal  salts. 


352 


APPENDIX. 


have  left  no  desideratum  that  could  he  supplied  by  either  the  moose 
or  the  cariboo.  There  are,  however,  several  undoubted  instances  of 
the  applicability  of  the  moose  to  draught.  A few  years  since  a 
settler  on  the  Guysboro’  road,  named  Carr,  possessed  a two-year  old 
bull  moose,  which  was  perfectly  tractable  in  harness.  For  a wager, 
he  has  been  known  to  overtake  and  quickly  distance  the  fastest 
trotting  horse  on  the  road,  drawing  his  master  in  a sleigh,  the 
guiding  reins  being  fastened  to  a muzzle  bound  round  the  animal’s 
nose.  Another  instance  was  that  of  a very  large  moose  kept  by  a 
doctor  in  Cape  Breton,  which  he  would  invariably  employ  in  pre- 
ference to  his  horse  when  wishing  to  make  a distant  visit  to  a 
patient,  and  in  the  shortest  time.  It  is  very  certain  that  in  its 
youth  the  moose  is  one  of  the  most  tractable  of  animals  ; but  it  is 
in  the  rutting  season  of  the  third  year  that  the  males  first  become 
unmanageable  and  dangerous.* 

A point,  however,  on  which  I would  engage  attention,  is  not  the 
domestication  of  either  of  these  animals  in  the  state  in  which  the 
ordinary  domesticated  animals  are  associated  with  us,  but  a possible 
state  of  semi-domestication,  by  which  the  moose  might  be  caused  to 
multiply  on  uncleared  land,  and  regularly  bred,  fattened,  and  turned 
to  profit  without  the  smallest  cost  to  the  owner,  except  the  expense 
of  maintaining  his  enclosures  in  an  efficient  state  of  security.  My 
attention  was  first  drawn  to  this  by  reading  an  account  of  the 
successful  breeding  of  the  American  elk  (C.  wapiti)  by  an  American 
gentleman — a Mr.  Stratton,  of  New  York  State.  I quote  from  a 
letter  dated  January  12,  1859  : — 

“ My  desire  to  keep  and  breed  them,  without  their  becoming  a tax 
upon  me,  led  to  diligent  inquiry  in  relation  to  what  had  been  done 
in  the  way  of  their  domestication.  I procured,  as  far  as  possible, 
every  paper,  book,  and  document,  which  could  give  any  light  upon 
the  subject.  I wrote  to  every  part  of  the  country  whence  any  infor- 
mation could  be  obtained,  and  opened  a correspondence  with  those 
who  had  undertaken  such  an  enterprise.  The  result  of  my  efforts 
was  simply  fhis  : nearly  every  one  who  had  owned  an  elk  was  a 
gentleman  amateur,  and  had  left  the  care  and  direction  to  servants  ; 
the  bucks,  not  having  been  castrated  at  the  proper  age,  had 
become  unmanageable  ; and  when  the  novelty  of  the  attempt  was 
over,  the  domestication  in  most  cases  was  abandoned.  But  from  my 

* Formerly  the  European  elk  was  used  in  Sweden  to  draw  sledges,  but  its 
use  for  this  purpose  was  finally  prohibited  by  government,  as  criminals  used 
it  as  a means  of  escape. 


APPENDIX. 


353 


own  inquiries,  and  a close  personal  observation  of  the  habits  of  the 
animal,  I believed  that  a different  course  would  produce  a more 
favourable  result.  The  first  requisite  was  a place  to  keep  them  in. 
Now,  they  had  always  lived  in  the  woods,  summer  and  winter  : why 
not  live  in  the  forest  again  ? Acting  upon  this  principle,  I im- 
mediately set  to  work  and  fenced  in  about  150  acres  of  hill  land, 
which  was  steep  and  stony,  covered  with  brushwood,  and  entirely 
useless  for  agricultural  purposes.  In  this  lot  I turned  my  elks, 
where  they  have  been  six  years.  In  the  meantime,  I purchased  two 
more  does,  and  have  reared  eight  fawns.  Having  emasculated  the 
older  bucks  as  fast  as  the  younger  ones  became  adults,  I have  now  a 
herd  so  gentle,  that  a visitor  at  my  farm  would  hardly  imagine  that 
their  ancestors,  only  three  generations  back,  were  wild  animals. 
And  this  has  been  done  simply  by  visiting  the  park  two  or  three 
times  a week,  and  always  carrying  them  an  ear  of  corn,  some  little 
delicacy,  or  salt,  and  treating  them  wdth  unvarying  kindness. 

“ The  facility  for  extending  this  business  may  easily  be  conceived. 
New  York  alone  might  support  100,000  elks  on  land  where  our 
domestic  cattle  could  not  subsist,  furnishing  an  amount  of  venison 
almost  incredible  ; while  the  adjoining  State  of  Pennsylvania,  to  say 
nothing  of  others,  might  sustain  a still  larger  number  without 
encroaching  upon  an  acre  of  land  now  used  for  stock-rearing,  or  any 
other  purpose  connected  with  agriculture.”  * 

Here,  then,  we  have  a modern  precedent  for  an  experiment  which 
I am  convinced  would  answer  in  the  case  of  the  moose,  a still  larger 
and  more  profitable  animal  than  the  wapiti.  What  an  admirable 
opportunity  for  utilising  those  barren  wastes  which  surround  us  ! 
Take  for  example  that  large  triangular  piece  of  waste  country  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  city,  commencing  at  Dartmouth,  extending 
along  the  shores  of  the  Basin  on  one  side,  bounded  by  the  Dart- 
mouth lakes  on  the  other,  and  skirted  by  the  railroad  from  Bedford 
to  Grand  Lake  as  its  base.  With  the  exception  of  a few  clearings 
on  the  shores  of  the  Basin,  the  whole  of  this  is  a wilderness,  con- 
taining some  15,000  acres  of  wild,  undulating  land,  with  here  and 
there  thick  spruce  swamps,  mossy  bogs,  and  barrens  covered  with  a 
young  growth  of  birch,  poplar,  and  all  the  food  on  which  the  moose 
delights  to  subsist.  That  they  have  an  especial  liking  for  tliis  small 
district  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  I have  never  known  it  as 

* In  1862,  Mr.  Stratton  states  that  he  had  succeeded  in  raising-  thirty-seven 
elk.  He  had  trained  a pair  to  harness,  and  had  sold  them  for  $1000.  Whilst, 
as  an  article  of  food  he  can  now  raise  elk  cheaper  than  sheep. 


354 


APPENDIX. 


not  containing  two  or  three  of  these  animals.  There  is  no  reason 
why  an  experimental  farm,  conducted  on  the  principle  indicated  by 
Mr.  Stratton,  should  not  be  able  to  breed  and  turn  out  in  this 
district  a very  large  number  of  moose,  and  in  such  a state  of  tame- 
ness, that  they  would  be  induced  to  remain  within  enclosed  portions 
of  the  wilderness,  furnishing,  in  proper  season,  a profitable  supply  of 
flesh  for  the  market. 

To  the  cariboo,  on  the  other  hand,  these  suggestions  will  not  be 
applicable,  as  this  animal  requires,  as  a primary  condition  of  its 
existence,  a large  and  uninterrupted  field  for  periodical  migration. 

As  regards  the  introduction  of  new  fish,  a very  good  exchange 
might  be  made  with  the  English  Acclimatization  Society,  by  sending 
the  beautiful  American  brook  trout  (Salmo  fontinalis),  and  receiving 
in  return  S.  fario.  Colonel  Sinclair*  has  several  times  drawn  my 
attention  to  the  suitableness  of  many  of  our  rivers  for  the  reception 
of  the  true  British  trout — a fish  quite  different  in  its  habits  to  our 
migratory,  deep-frequenting  S.  fontinalis. 

The  Shubenacadie,  and  other  rivers,  steadily  flowing  through  alluvial 
flats  {intervale),  present  frequent  gravelly  reaches,  with  patches  of 
waving  weed,  and  soft  overhanging  banks — just  the  counterpartof  many 
English  trout-streams.  With  no  predatory  fish  to  harass  the  trout, 
these  waters  at  once  suggest  the  introduction  of  S.  fario,  more 
particularly  as  they  are  not  the  resort  of  our  own  species.  As  an 
association,  and  for  purposes  of  food,  the  common  English  stream- 
minnow  might  be  profitably  turned  in  at  the  same  time. 

Our  grayling  (S.  Oloverii),  (the  former  a misnomer),  is  a lake- 
trout.  The  true  grayling  (Thymallus),  as  well  as  the  common 
English  perch,  would  be  desirable  additions  to  our  waters.  Even  in 
lakes  where  the  trout  has  almost  disappeared,  I should  hesitate  to 
recommend  the  introduction  of  any  of  the  family  Esocidae,  for  fear  of 
their  spreading  to  damage  more  remunerative  waters. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  with  the  greatest  pleasure  that  I welcome 
Colonel  Sinclair’s  proposal  to  form  a Society  for  the  artificial  propa- 
gation of  fish  in  this  Province.  The  Americans  are  already  earnestly 
endeavouring  by  this  means  to  restore  their  desolate  rivers ; and 
with  the  support  of  the  Association  for  Protection  of  Game  and  Fish, 
and  the  advice  and  the  experience  of  the  English  pisciculturists, 
the  greatest  results  may  be  obtained  in  water-farming  a country  so 
prolific  of  lakes  and  streams  as  is  Nova  Scotia. 

* Lieut. -Col.  R.  Bligh  Sinclair,  Adjt.-Gen.  of  N.  S.  Militia,  late  42nd  High- 
landers. 


APPENDIX. 


355 


AUDACITY  OF  THE  BULL  MOOSE  IN  THE  CALLINO 

SEASON. 

The  following  instances  of  the  recklessness  which  characterises 
the  bull  moose  in  the  fall  are  authentic  : — 

A sportsman,  accompanied  by  an  Indian,  was  moose-calling  on 
Mosher’s  River,  Nova  Scotia,  one  morning  in  the  autumn  of  1867. 
They  were  on  a barren,  and  near  the  margin  of  a heavy  forest.  A 
fine  bull  moose  came  up  to  the  call,  and  fell  to  the  Indian’s  gun, 
when  instantly  another  bull  emerged  from  the  woods,  and  charged  at 
the  prostrate  animal.  A second  bullet  brought  him  over,  and  he 
fell  on  the  body  of  what  had  most  probably  been  his  foe  of  the 
season. 

A settler  in  the  backwoods  going  out  one  October  evening  to  chop 
firewood  near  his  shanty  in  the  forest,  heard  a bull  moose  “ handy P 
He  returned  for  his  gun,  and,  after  a short  stalk  in  the  bushes, 
obtained  a shot  at  the  moose — an  animal  with  superb  antlers — and 
could  distinctly  see  that  he  had  hit  him  in  the  neck.  There  he 
stood  for  a considerable  time,  wdiile  the  settler,  who  had  only  the 
one  charge,  lay  in  the  bushes,  and  at  length  turned  and  leisurely 
walked  away.  The  man  was  up  betimes  next  morning,  and  away  to 
the  same  spot.  He  saw  blood  ; and,  following  the  trail  for  a short 
distance,  heard  sounds  indicating  the  presence  of  moose.  Having 
some  faint  idea  of  calling,  he  put  a piece  of  bark  to  his  mouth,  and 
gave  the  note  of  the  bull.  Answering  at  once,  a fine  moose  came  in 
view,  when  he  fired,  and  this  time  prostrated  the  animal — the  iden- 
tical one  shot  the  evening  before.  He  recognised  the  horns,  and 
the  wound  was  in  his  neck. 

Apropos  of  this  subject,  the  following  extracts  from  his  note-book, 
kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  by  ‘‘  The  Old  Hunter,”  are  highly 
interesting  and  illustrative.  He  says  : — “ I left  my  camp  on  Lake 
Mooin  (the  lake  of  the  bear),  Liscome  River,  September,  1866,  in 
company  with  Peter,  Joe,  and  Stephen,  as  my  Indian  hunters,  in- 
tending to  cross  the  next  lake  to  the  southward  in  a canoe  which  we 
had  there  secreted.  On  arriving  at  the  lake  we  found  the  wind  so 
high  that  it  was  considered  altogether  unsafe  to  trust  ourselves  on 
its  waters  in  our  frail  bark.  About  five  o’clock  the  wind  moderated, 
but  as  I still  thought  that  we  could  not  reach  my  old  calling-ground 
on  the  opposite  side  before  the  decline  of  the  sun,  I determined  to 
cross  to  a narrow  neck  of  rocky  barren  distant  from  us  by  water 
some  seven  hundred  yards.  After  various  perils  we  reached  the  spot, 
disembarked  amongst  the  rocks,  fixed  a place  for  the  calling-ground 
should  the  night  be  calm,  collected  our  bedding  of  spruce  boughs 

A A 2 


356 


APPENDIX. 


picked  in  a neighbouring  swamp,  and,  releasing  our  blankets  from 
their  cordings,  prepared  for  supper.  Suddenly  all  was  calm  ; the 
wind  had  gone  down,  and  the  western  sky  was  tinged  with  the 
gorgeous  colouring  denoting  a moose-caller’s  delight — a calm  and 
serene  night.  All  at  once  a cracking  of  wood  was  heard  away  down 
on  our  side  of  the  lake,  and  presently  more  noises,  plainly  deter- 
mining the  presence  of  moose  thereabouts.  A few  minutes  of  hesi- 
tation, and  I treed  Peter  to  sound  the  love-note  from  aloft : and  not 
long  after  he  descried  a moose  at  fully  a mile’s  distance  coming  to 
the  edge  of  the  forest.  The  margin  of  the  lake  on  our  side  had  been 
burnt,  and  was  barren  of  bush  or  tree  except  in  a few  spots.  A few 
persuasive  calls  brought  him  out  on  the  barren,  from  which,  how- 
ever, he  soon  returned  to  the  cover  of  the  green-woods — a fact,  as  we 
all  knew,  proving  him  to  be  either  a coward  or  a beaten  moose.  We 
coaxed  : he  still  came  on,  showing  himself  occasionally  on  the 
barren,  though  never  answering,  and  at  length  was  espied  about 
three  hundred  yards  off,  peering  around  him  and  listening,  his  huge 
ears  extended  forwards  to  the  utmost.  We  thought  that  he  saw  us, 
but  he  had  cunning  folks  to  deal  with  ; we  did  not  move  or  call. 
Down  he  came,  making  directly  for  us,  now  speahing  for  the  first 
time.  I was  lying  in  his  route,  and,  when  distant  about  fifteen 
yards,  I bowled  over  one  of  the  finest  and  most  cautious  of  his 
species  I had  ever  met  with.  He  was  cast  and  butchered  before  the 
twilight  faded. 

“ We  supped,  and  that  night  lay  replete  ; but  my  sleep  not  being 
of  such  a dead  nature  as  that  of  my  faithful  followers,  the  crashings 
of  trees  and  the  bellowings  of  moose  emanating  from  the  same  direc- 
tion as  that  whence  came  the  fallen  monarch,  struck  frequently  on 
my  ears.  At  cock-crow  I woke  up  the  sleeping  aborigines,  and, 
severe  as  had  been  the  cold  of  the  past  night,  we  listened  long  and 
with  intense  interest  to  the  distant  sounds,  not  the  usual  noise  of  the 
cow  moose  at  this  season,  but  a sort  of  unearthly  roaring. 

“We  called,  and  presently  observed  two  moose  leave  the  woods, 
and  approach  us  on  the  barrens.  When  about  five  hundred  yards 
distant  from  us  we  lost  sight  of  them  in  the  alder  bushes  which  grew 
thickly  on  the  banks  of  a small  brook  flowing  into  the  lake.  Past 
this  spot  they  would  not  come  ; we  did  not  advance,  as  we  deter- 
mined to  kill  no  more  moose  on  that  excursion.  Our  object  was 
simply  to  watch  ; I particularly  wanted  to  ascertain  from  which 
animal  the  snorting  and  fierce  bellowing  came.  We  had  perceived 
that  they  were  male  and  female.  They  stopped  in  the  alders  for 
some  fifteen  minutes  or  so  making  a great  row,  breaking  sticks  and 
pawing  the  water  in  swamp  holes  with  a loud  splashing.  At  length 


APPENDIX. 


357 


we  espied  them  beating  a slow  retreat  on  the  route  they  had  ad- 
vanced upon,  and -I  determined  to  take  the  canoe  and  follow  them 
by  water,  leaving  Stephen  to  prepare  breakfast.  The  morning  was 
perfectly  calm,  fog  here  and  there  rising  from  the  lake  and  along  the 
lines  of  the  numerous  brooks  that  emptied  into  it.  I may  here  add, 
that  though  I have  named  it  Lake  Merganser,  owing  to  the  numbers 
of  those  birds  frequenting  it,  it  would  have  been  fully  entitled  to 
have  been  called  Eocky  Lake,  as  I think  that  both  below  and  above 
its  surface  rocks  abound  to  a greater  extent  than  in  any  other  lake  in 
Nova  Scotia,  and  that  is  saying  a good  deal. 

“ Stealing  over  the  lake’s  surface,  and  seated  in  the  bottom  of  our 
canoe,  we  could  not  well  scan  the  woods  by  the  margin,  for  the  rocks 
on  the  shore  were  fully  eight  feet  high.  However,  at  length  we 
sighted  two  large  black  objects  ascending  a hill.  Peter  called  like  a 
bull,  and  this  at  once  arrested  them.  They  turned,  and  one,  for  a 
moment  lost  to  sight,  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the  barren  : another 
step  and  he  must  have  descended.  It  was  a mighty  bull  moose. 
He  peered  at  us,  and  we,  motionless  and  with  restrained  breath, 
gazed  upon  him.  After  standing  in  that  position  for  some  minutes 
he  turned  and  looked  towards  where  we  had  slept.  I did  the  same, 
and  could  plainly  see  the  boy  Stephen  perched  upon  the  rock  beneath 
which  we  had  lain.  Then  he  walked  five  or  six  steps,  turned,  and 
gave  us  a full  side  view,  twice  picking  some  twigs  from  the  bushes 
which  we  could  hear  him  munching  with  his  teeth,  so  close  were  we. 
During  this  wondrous  sight  the  loud  noise  was  made  in  the  bush 
three  times,  when  out  walked  a cow  moose.  She,  like  to  her  lord, 
looked  hard  at  us,  and  I thought  was  “ for  off.”  Not  a bit  ; she 
stopped  head  on  for  fully  five  minutes  ; then  turned,  and  faced  the 
hill,  emitting  several  times  the  angry  grunt  so  dreaded  by  the  Indian 
as  a sign  of  ill-luck.  The  bull  quietly  took  his  departure,  and  we 
watched  them  enter  the  forest.  This  bull  had  only  one  horn.  Peter 
declared  that  the  other  was  a small  stump — a malformation — but  I 
shall  ever  be  of  the  opinion  that  he  had  lost  it  in  battle,  for  on  our 
return  to  our  rocky  home,  and  when  butchering  the  dead  moose,  we 
found  that  he  had  been  in  the  wars,  and  was  much  bruised  about  the 
neck  and  ribs  on  the  near  side. 

“ Parting  with  this  most  interesting  couple,  we  paddled  on  to  the 
foot  of  the  lake,  and  called  a few  times  at  the  head  of  a bog.  We 
were  quickly  answered,  and  up  came  a rattling  moose.  He  was 
astonished  at  first  seeing  us,  I feel  certain,  and  was  for  bolting,  but 
continued  walking  along  the  dry  edge  of  the  bog.  Peter  imitated  a 
bull’s  note,  at  which  he  turned  fiercely  round  with  mane,  rump-hair, 
and  ears  erect,  and  answered  angrily.  This  was  repeated  fully  six 


358 


APPENDIX. 


times  to  our  great  amusement.  At  length  he  walked  away,  making 
constant  ‘ bookings,’  and  rubbing  his  antlers  against  burnt  trees. 

“All  at  once  we  espied  another  pair  of  moose  coming  from  the 
opposite  direction — a bull  and  a cow — and  expected  to  see  a meeting, 
perhaps  a combat  ; but  although  there  appeared  every  likeliliood  of 
such  an  occurrence,  it  was  avoided  by  the  pair  retreating  into  the 
deep  woods.  The  bulls  ceasing  to  answer  each  other,  we  paddled 
back  to  camp,  where  little  Stephen,  though  he  had  observed  all  the 
first  part  of  the  spectacle  fi’om  the  rock,  had  not  neglected  to  provide 
for  his  ‘ sacamoiv  ’ and  comrade  red-skin  a sumptuous  repast  of 
kidneys,  steaks,  and  coffee. 

“ I am  a firm  believer,  and  always  was,  that  it  is  the  cow  moose 
that  makes  the  noise  by  some  called  a roar,  and  I was  thus  a witness 
to  the  fact.  Here  was  a glorious  morning’s  sport  without  bloodshed ! 
Alas  ! last  season  upwards  of  fifty  moose  were  killed  about  Lake 
Merganser.  It  is  a fact  that  now  not  a track  can  there  be  seen.” 


MOOSE  CAUGHT  IN  A TREE. 

Moose  not  unfrequently  perish  in  the  woods  through  becoming 
entangled  in  some  natural  snare,  or  by  breaking  their  legs  amongst 
the  rents  and  holes  in  the  rocks  which  strew  the  country,  and  are  often 
concealed  by  a carpet  of  moss.  A few  falls  since  I stumbled  by 
chance  upon  the  body  of  a moose  which  had  recently  met  with  an 
accidental  death  under  the  following  curious  circumstances.  I was 
crossing  a deep  still-water  brook  in  the  forest,  on  a log  fallen  from 
bank  to  bank,  when  my  attention  was  arrested  by  the  disturbed 
appearance  of  the  bank,  and  by  the  bark  being  rubbed  off*  the  bottom 
of  a large  spruce-tree  which  grew  over  the  water  on  the  opposite 
side.  Completely  submerged  below  the  surface  was  the  body  of  a 
large  bull-moose,  his  antlers  just  peeping  above  the  water  A thick 
root  of  the  spruce  gTew  out  of  the  bank,  and,  curving  round,  re- 
entered it,  forming  a strong  loop.  Into  this  the  unfortunate  moose, 
in  attempting  to  cross  the  brook  at  this  point,  had  accidentally 
slipped  one  of  his  hind  legs  up  to  the  hock,  and  the  looped  root 
being  naiTOW,  he  was  unable  to  extricate  it.  A prisoner,  for  who 
can  tell  how  long,  the  unhappy  animal  perished  from  starvation,  and 
at  last  sank  into  the  stagnant  brook.  The  denuded  state  of  the  stem 
of  the  spruce,  and  the  broken  bushes  around,  showed  with  what 
violence  his  struggles  had  been  attended. 

The  following  is  an  Indian’s  story  of  a somewhat  similar  occur- 
rence : — Being  visited  one  winter  by  two  of  his  tribe  and  the  larder 


APPENDIX. 


359 


nearly  empty,  the  trio  determined  to  have  a hunt  in  search  of  moose- 
meat.  It  was  February,  and  deep  snow  covered  the  country.  On 
the  evening  of  the  first  hunting  day  they  came  upon  a fi-esh  track, 
and  their  dogs,  three  in  number,  started  the  chase.  Daylight  failing, 
they  renewed  the  hunt  bright  and  early  next  morning,  following 
until  noon,  when  they  finished  the  last  morsel  of  their  bread.  -Away 
again,  and  before  nightfall  the  dogs  had  pressed  the  moose  very 
hard.  Taking  up  the  trail  next  day,  they  pursued  it  with  all  the 
vigour  left  to  them,  and  until  two  of  the  party  gave  in  and  deter- 
mined to  strike  out  for  some  settlement.  The  other  Indian,  how- 
ever, resolving  to  stick  to  the  trail  to  the  last,  went  on,  and,  to  his 
great  delight,  about  an  hour  before  sundown,  he  heard  the  dogs 
barking  furiously.  This  was  good ; on  he  dashed,  and  presently 
came  up  with  the  moose  and  dogs.  It  was  a barren  cow  : she  had  ‘ 
crossed  a bog  bisected  by  a deep  still-water  stream  thinly  crusted 
with  ice,  and,  having  broken  through,  was  struggling  mightily  to 
reach  the  opposite  side.  He  shot  the  moose  in  the  head,  and  found, 
on  attempting  to  haul  out  the  carcase,  that  he  could  not  succeed  in 
moving  it ; so  cutting  off  the  mouffle  and  tongue,  he  lighted  a fire 
and  then  and  there  feasted.  In  the  morning  he  became  aware  that 
he  was  not  far  distant  from  a farm,  as  he  heard  the  conk  shell  blow 
for  breakfast,  and  proceeding  to  the  spot  he  induced  the  settler  to 
assist  him  by  taking  his  two  oxen  and  sled  to  the  spot  where  the 
moose  lay  to  haul  out  the  meat.  It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  they  extricated  the  beast  from  the  hole.  It  appeared  that  a 
hard-wood  tree  had  fallen  across  the  still-water,  and  that  the  animal’s 
hind  leg  had  got  fixed  fast  in  a crutch  of  the  tree.  Whence  the 
Indian’s  success.  “ Sartain  good  lucky  this  time,”  said  he.  He  sold 
his  meat  well  in  the  adjoining  settlement. 


A BEAD  SHOT  WITH  A HALFPENNY.^ 

“ Not  many  years  ago,  when  my  head-quarters  for  fall  hunting 
was  on  Lake  Mooin  (Anglice,  the  lake  of  the  bear),  I had  enjoyed 
most  excellent  sport,  moose  calling,  and  four  superb  sets  of  antlers 
hung  around  the  camp.  The  skins  of  these  animals,  together  with 
two  of  bears,  stretched,  surrounded  the  smoke  place.  This  latter  was 
our  favourite  daily  resort ; for  the  camp  was  too  hot  a place  by  day, 
though  a snug  box  enough  at  night.  Jack  Frost  having  come  along 
with  a late  September  moon.  I had  made  up  my  mind  to  visit  the 


* From  “ The  Old  Hunter’s”  note-book. 


360 


APPENDIX. 


lake  which  we  had  seen  when  out  on  the  barrens  ; it  was  studded  with 
islands,  and  not  far  from  where  a huge  bear  had  fallen  to  our  guns  a 
few  days  before  when  berry  picking.  He  came  quietly  along,  licking 
in  the  blue-berries,  and  when  about  twelve  yards  from  us,  who  lay 
behind  a rock,  I bowled  him  over  with  an  eleven  to  the  pound  bullet. 
My  Indian,  Peter,  fired  also,  and  terminated  his  death  struggles  by  a 
ball  through  the  brain.  The  other  bear  had  likewise  been  stretched 
in  the  same  locality.  We  had  been  calling  on  the  barrens  and  had 
heard  moose  several  times,  but  wind  arose  and  they  got  to  leeward  of 
us.  Early  next  morning  it  became  tolerably  calm,  though  a few 
light  puffs  of  wind  came  from  the  westward.  A bull  moose,  accom- 
panied by  a cow,  advanced,  but  winded  us  ; and  we  saw  them  spinning 
over  the  barrens  for  a long  time,  making  for  the  deep  woods  to  the 
west  of  our  lake.  We  kept  a bright  look-out  for  ‘ Mr.  Mooin,’  and  a 
black  object  was  presently  discerned  in  the  distance,  though  whether 
it  was  a bear  or  a moose  we  could  not  make  out ; it  seemed  to  keep 
so  much  about  the  same  spot,  and  seemed  so  large  at  times  that  we 
thought  it  must  be  the  latter  animal.  Well,  Peter  and  self  started 
for  the  locality  ; the  wind  got  up  in  our  favour,  and  we  advanced 
with  rapidity,  though,  at  the  same  time,  with  caution.  Should  it 
prove  to  be  a moose  we  were  not  to  fire  ; we  had  killed  enough  meat 
at  that  time,  and  besides  bore  in  mind  the  great  distance  we  should 
have  to  carry  our  load  out  of  the  woods.  On  nearing  the  place 
where  we  had  seen  the  black  object  we  crept  to  a large  rock, 
cautiously  looked  from  its  shelter,  and  at  once  sighted  a bear.  We 
could  just  see  its  shoulders  and  head  ; it  lay  on  its  belly,  and  was 
picking  berries  from  a bush  apparently  held  down  by  its  fore  paws. 
I fired  my  right  barrel,  but  missed  my  mark.  This  brought  the 
monster  to  a sitting  position,  when,  taking  a second  aim,  my  bullet 
pierced  his  head,  and  tumbled  over  a full-grown  he  bear.  When  we 
examined  the  trees  about,  we  found  that  what  had  given  him  such  a 
strange  appearance  to  our  eyes,  when  viewing  him  fr’om  a distance, 
was,  that  he  had  been  on  his  hind  legs,  pawing  the  bark  on  the  tree 
with  his  fore  ; this  was  evident  from  the  nature  of  the  traces. 

“Mell,  now  to  my  tale.  We  got  to  camp  about  noon,  and,  as 
before  stated,  were  bound  to  see  the  lake  of  the  islands.  There  was 
a good  deal  of  talking  and  smoking  over  the  matter,  but  early  one 
morning  found  us  packed  and  in  marching  order.  Leaving  my  boat 
capsized  at  the  foot  of  Lake  Mooin,  we  took  to  the  woods,  heading 
for  Lake  Merganser  ; found  our  little  canoe,  which  had  been  con- 
cealed in  the  bushes  by  the  shore  ; crossed,  and  struck  off  for  the 


APPENDIX. 


361 


island  lake.  The  difficulties  were  great ; and  we  had  to  pull  up  for 
the  night,  choosing  a good  place  for  calling  of  course,  for  one,  though 
only  one,  more  moose  must  fall  to  our  party,  and  that  one  must 
carry  the  finest  antlers.  At  night  we  called,  and  were  answered  from 
the  direction  in  which  we  had  come  on  our  trail.  Being  fatigued, 
and  somewhat  indifferent  from  the  reflection  that  a dead  shot  would 
necessitate  some  nine  hundred-weight  of  meat  being  ‘ backed  ’ out  of 
the  woods,  we  gradually  all  slumbered.  I was  up  very  early.  The 
rocks  on  which  I had  lain  had  pierced  almost  to  my  bones,  and  I felt 
particularly  sore  about  the  right  hip.  I smoked,  then  called,  and 
was  at  once  answered  by  what  was  in  my  opinion  the  moose  of  the 
previous  evening.  On  he  came  dashingly — no  signs  of  fear  about  his 
note.  I roused  up  Peter,  and  after  some  fifteen  minutes  attentive 
listening,  finding  he  was  not  far  distant,  sent  him  off  to  call  from 
some  bushes  about  one  hundred  yards  away.  The  moose  presently 
came  in  view.  He  was  crippled  in  his  gait,  almost  dead  lame  in  the 
off  fore  leg.  He  carried  just  what  I wanted,  an  A 1 pair  of  antlers. 
I shot  him,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  was  not  more  than  ten  yards 
from  me  at  the  time  ; he  was  bound,  with  head  erect,  for  the  bushes 
wherein  was  secreted  Peter.  All  the  noise  (my  shot  having  been 
fired  absolutely  over  the  head  of  my  other  camp  follower,  the  boy 
Stephen)  had  failed  to  arouse  the  slumbering  son  of  the  forest. 
There  he  lay  until  I hauled  off  his  blanket,  when  he  appeared  quite 
annoyed  at  the  close  proximity  of  the  antlered  monarch.  Upon 
examination  we  found  that  in  the  previous  season  this  beast  had 
got  sadly  mauled  in  a fight.  Five  ribs  had  been  broken  on  one 
side,  three  on  the  other.  His  lameness  was  accounted  for  by  the  fact 
that  the  outside  joint  of  his  foot  on  the  off  side  had  been  dislocated 
and  had  set  out. 

“ The  morning  being  very  calm  Peter  proposed  that  we  should 
leave  the  boy  to  get  breakfast,  and  ourselves  take  up  positions  on 
two  hills  adjacent  to  look  for  bear.  In  case  we  saw  any,  the  signal 
was  to  be  the  hat  raised  on  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  from  the  hill  top. 
I had  not  been  long  on  my  look-out  when  I espied  black  objects 
moving,  but  not  being  certain  of  their  genus,  I started  to  ascertain, 
and  soon  came  upon  a fine  cow  moose  with  an  attendant  bull,  a two- 
year-old.  I strolled  back  to  my  look-out,  and  being  tired,  I sup])ose 
I “ slept  upon  sentry.”  I was  awakened  by  a shot,  closely  followed 
by  another,  again  two  more  in  quick  succession.  Now  I knew  that 
our  party  was  alone  in  those  deep  woods,  and  that  Peter  had  carried 
my  smooth  bore,  for  which  I had  handed  him  only  four  bullets,  with 


362 


APPENDIX. 


what  little  powder  remained,  in  a red  half-pound  canister  of  Curtis 
and  Harvey’s.  I was  alarmed,  for  I knew  that  my  henchman  would 
only  fire  at  vermin,  and  I started  helter-skelter  in  the  direction  of  the 
firing.  Fear  accelerated  my  steps,  for  on  my  onward  course  I heard 
two  more  shots,  and  what  that  meant,  except  in  sign  of  distress,  I 
could  not  divine.  On  reaching  the  side  of  the  hill,  on  the  summit  of 
which  I well  knew  that  Peter  had  perched  himself,  I saw  an  object 
which  I readily  recognised  as  a back  view  of  the  Indian  actively 
engaged.  I rushed  on  and  found  this  wonderfully  powerful  and 
agile  youth  hauling  along  the  carcase  of  a young  bear.  He  was  full 
of  smiles,  and  chided  me  for  not  coming  to  the  battle.  He  had  seen 
a bear  feeding  on  berries,  and  had  given  me  the  signal,  but  it  must 
have  been  at  the  time  I was  ofi*  to  the  pair  of  moose,  or — shall  I write 
it  ? yes,  truth  is  best  told — perhaps  it  was  when  I slumbered.  He 
crawled  down,  and  when  about  twenty  yards  distant  had  fired  at  the 
animal.  A second  shot  seemed  at  first  to  have  proved  inefficacious, 
when  the  fiying  bear  suddenly  dropped  dead  in  her  tracks.  It  proved 
afterwards  that  the  first  shot  had  told,  hitting  high  up  in  the  lungs. 
Hearing  a noise  to  his  right  he  looked  round,  and  espied  two  young 
bears  in  precipitate  retreat.  He  made  chase,  when  both  treed  simul- 
taneously on  the  nearest  ‘ram-pikes’ — huge  naked  stems  of  burnt 
pines,  of  which  there  was  a bunch  of  five  or  six  standing  together. 
Peter  halted  and  loaded.  He  missed  the  nearest  youngster  with 
shot  number  one,  but  the  second  brought  it  down  dead  from  its 
perch.  About  fifteen  yards  from  the  spot  there  sat  the  other  cub 
on  a projecting  branch,  which,  on  the  Indian’s  approach,  it  left,  and 
clasped  the  trunk  for  a downward  retreat.  (Those  who  have  not 
witnessed  it  can  form  but  a faint  idea  of  the  rapidity  with  which  a 
bear  when  scared  can  ascend  or  descend  a tree.)  Peter  had  no  more 
bullets,  so  what  was  to  be  done  ? Well,  his  first  attempt  to  kill  young 
‘mooin’  was  with  the  stopper,  or  rather  charger  of  the  powder  horn, 
which  he  rammed  down  into  the  right-hand  barrel.  This  was  a failure 
and  a miss.  ‘ Mooin  ’ still  clasped  the  tree  in  desperation.  Eefiection 
made  Peter  search  his  pockets,  when  therein  he  found  a halfpenny — a 
fitting  remaining. coin  to  be  in  an  Indian’s  keeping.  He  sat  dovm  ; 
and  underneath  the  tree  where  the  poor  victim  clung,  aided  by  the 
butt-end  of  the  gun,  which  bears  the  well-indented  marks  to  this 
day,  he  doubled  up  that  copper,  drove  it  down  over  the  powder  in 
the  left-hand  barrel,  fired,  and  brought  dovii  the  bear  from  its 
perch.  He  had  broken  its  near  thigh — a frightful  fracture  ; but, 
falling  with  three  legs  to  work  on,  it  took  to  the  bush  at  a great 


APPENDIX. 


363 


pace.  Scarcely  a match  at  any  time  in  point  of  speed  for  this  agile 
young  Indian,  it  was  soon  overtaken,  and  he  had  succeeded  in  beating 
it  almost  to  fragments  with  a stick  which  he  had  snatched  up  in  the 
wild  chase  when  I arrived  to  see  him  hauling  it  out  from  the  thicket 
in  which  he  had  captured  it. 

“ Hearing  his  story,  I went  to  the  tree,  and  in  it  could  distinctly 
see  the  end  of  the  charger,  and  feel  confident  that  it  may  be  still 
seen  there  if  the  former  is  standing.  That  day  we  feasted  gloriously 
at  dinner-time  on  the  roasted  ribs  of  young  bears,  one  of  which  had 
been  shot  with  a halfpenny.” 


THE  CAPLIN. 

{Mallotiis  villosus.) 

This  curious  little  Salmonoid,  the  smallest  known  member  of  its 
family,  and,  perhaps,  the  most  ancient  in  type,*  plays  a very  impor- 
tant part  in  connection  with  the  great  cod  fisheries  on  the  banks  and 
along  the  shores  of  Newfoundland,  proving  the  most  tempting  bait 
on  which  to  take  the  latter  fish  when  it  approaches  the  shores  to 
spawn.  This  it  does  yearly  in  numbers  baffling  description,  and  the 
manner  in  which  the  operation  is  performed  is  one  of  the  most  sin- 
gular and  interesting  facts  in  its  character.  It  may  be  observed  that 
the  male  and  female  differ  so  much  in  appearance  at  this  season  tliat 
it  would  be  difficult  to  believe  they  were  of  the  same  species.  The 
females  are  very  like  the  common  smelt,  possessing,  perhaps,  more 
metallic  lustre,  but  the  males  are  adorned  by  lines  or  ridges  of  flaccid 
fringe,  resembling  velvet,  which  run  just  above  the  lateral  line  from 
the  upper  angle  of  the  operculum  to  base  of  tail.  It  is  stated  by  so 
many  competent  and  credible  authorities,  that  I think  it  deserves 
to  be  placed  on  record  as  an  authenticated  fact,  that  the  following  is 
the  mode  of  proceeding.  The  time  for  the  female  depositing  her 
spawn  having  arrived,  she  is  assisted  by  two  male  fish,  one  on  each 

* Hugh.  Miller,  in  his  “ Popular  Geology,”  thus  speaks  of  the  caplin  as 
an  inhabitant  of  the  deep,  in  the  latter  days  of  the  tertiary  period  : — “ Clay 
nodules  of  the  drift  period  in  Canada  and  the  United  States,  are  remark- 
able for  containing  the  only  iclithyolite  found  by  Agassiz  among  seventeen 
hundred  species  which  still  continue  to  exist,  and  that  can  be  exhibited  in 
consequence  in  duplicate  specimens— the  one  fit  for  the  table  in  the  cha- 
racter of  a palatable  viand  ; the  other  for  the  shelves  of  a geological  museum, 
in  the  character  of  a curious  ichthyolite.  It  is  the  Mallutm  villosus,  or 
caplin.  ” * 


384 


APPENDIX. 


side,  and  when  the  surf  offers,  they  all  force  themselves  with  great 
swiftness  on  the  beach,  taking  particular*  care  that  the  female  is  kept 
in  the  middle,  and  by  thus  compressing  her  the  object  of  their  visit 
is  accomplished.  Many  repetitions  are  undoubtedly  requmed.  The 
three  caplin  then  separate,  and  struggle  back  into  the  ocean  with  a 
receding  wave.  It  is  difficult  to  say  in  what  precise  manner  the 
processes  or  ridges  of  the  male  are  used  ; probably  some  amount  of 
downward  pressure  is  exerted  through  their  aid  in  running  on  the 
sand,  and  the  female  is  assisted  thereby  in  exuding  the  ripe  and 
readily  expressed  spawn. 

The  caplin  arrives  at  its  spawning  beaches  on  the  south-east  coasts 
of  Newfoundland,  about  the  20th  June,  and  remains  close  inshore  for 
about  fixe  weeks ; beyond  this  period  the  fish  is  rarely  seen  or  taken 
under  any  circumstances.  The  warm  days  with  light  fogs  occurring 
at  this  season  are  looked  upon  by  the  expectant  fishermen  as  favour- 
able to  their  striking  in ; they  call  such  days  “ caplin  weather.” 
Now  all  is  rivalry  as  to  who  shall  get  the  first  haul  for  bait ; a bucket 
full  would  command  any  price — like  new  potatoes  at  Covent  Garden 
or  the  first  salmon  at  Boston.  In  a few  days’  time  they  will  be 
rolled  over  the  roads  by  strings  of  carts,  selling  at  35.  a load,  and 
exported  by  thousands  of  barrels  to  the  eager  French  fishermen  on 
the  Banks  ; for  now  is  the  great  banquet  of  the  cod,  and  herring  and 
clam,  mackerel  and  sardine,  ai'e  each  refused  for  the  new  and  delicate 
morsel.  It  was  the  height  of  the  caplin  season  when  I arrived  in  St. 
John’s  one  summer.  Caplin  were  being  wheeled  through  the  streets, 
caught  in  tubs,  buckets,  and  ladled  up  in  scoops  by  everybody  from 
the  wharves  of  the  town  ; the  air  was  strongly  impregnated  with  the 
smell  of  caplin ; they  were  scattered  about  in  the  streets,  and  you 
trod  on  or  drove  over  them  everywhere.  The  fish-flakes,  roofs  of 
houses,  and  little  improvised  stages  attached  to  nearly  every  dwelling 
were  strewn  with  caplin  drying  in  the  sun.  In  the  country,  on  the 
roads  to  the  out-harbours,  a continual  stream  of  carts  was  passing 
loaded  with  glittering  cargoes  of  fish,  the  whole  mass  moving  together 
like  a jelly,  and  so  likely  to  spill  over  the  sides  that  division  boards 
are  placed  across  the  cart  to  separate  the  fish  into  two  masses,  and 
thus  keep  them  steadier.  In  the  fields  men  were  engaged  in  spreading 
them  broadcast,  or  sowing  them  in  drills  with  potatoes ; whilst  others 
were  storing  them  for  manure  by  burying  enormous  masses  of  fish  in 
mounds  of  earth.  But  it  is  on  tlie  beach  only  that  a just  conception 
can  be  formed  of  the  great  multitudes  in  which  this  fish  approaches 
the  shore,  when  sometimes  the  surface  of  the  water  appears  as  a 


APPENDIX. 


3G5 


living  mass  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  ; with  their  heads  towards 
the  land,  they  lie  like  a black  line  close  in,  each  succeeding  wave 
dashing  them  on  the  beach,  where,  as  the  tide  ebbs,  they  remain  and 
die.  The  seine,  the  cast-net,  and  the  dip-net  are  being  plied  by  the 
busy  fishermen,  whose  families  are  collecting  the  dead  fish  and 
depositing  them  in  heaps  or  in  pits  for  manure.  Sometimes  the  mass 
is  so  dense  that  a boat  is  impeded  in  sailing  through  them,  and  in 
dipping  them  up  more  fish  than  water  are  taken  in  a bucket.  Num- 
bers of  the  lively  little  tern  wheel  screaming  through  the  air  over  the 
school  of  fish,  every  now  and  then  making  a dash  on  their  prey, 
whilst  out  in  the  deep  water  lies  the  great  army  of  codfish,  ready  to 
feast  on  them  as  they  return  from  the  beach.  In  fact,  as  regards 
their  finny  foes,  every  fish  large  enough  to  swallow  them  preys  on  the 
caplin.  Captain  Murray,  E.E.,  informed  me  that  he  had  taken  a 
salmon  with  five,  and  a sea  trout  with  two  caplin  in  the  stomach,  the 
latter  being  only  2 lbs.  weight.  A friend  of  his  once  thought  he  had 
hooked  a sea  trout,  but  after  a little  play  succeeded  in  landing  a dead 
caplin,  to  which  the  hook  had  affixed  itself  in  the  trout’s  mouth,  the 
latter  being  apparently  too  full  to  complete  the  act  of  swallowing. 

A scene  of  this  description  is  exceedingly  interesting,  as  I saw  it 
one  deliciously  warm  sunny  afternoon  in  July  on  the  pebbly  beaeh  at 
Topsail,  near  the  head  of  Conception  Bay.  As  we  approached  the 
village  from  the  road  leading  to  St.  John’s  the  prospect  from  the  top 
of  the  last  hill  was  charming.  The  neat  little  village  at  our  feet, 
wdth  its  fish  stages  and  patches  of  garden,  bounded  by  the  rough, 
barren,  sandstone  cliffs  of  Portugal  Cove ; a pebbly  beach  in  front, 
dotted  with  groups  of  fishermen  throwing  their  cast-nets  over  the 
black  patches  which  indicate  the  approaching  beds  of  caplin ; the 
activity  prevailing  on  board  the  boats  and  schooners  moored  a few 
yards  off ; the  men  dipping  up  the  fish,  and  throwing  them  over  their 
shoulders  into  their  boats,  formed  a pleasing  and  animated  foreground 
to  a picture  where  the  distance  was  formed  of  the  lofty  blue  moun- 
tains across  the  bay,  whilst  in  middle  distance  reposed  the  well 
cultivated  islands  of  Great  and  Little  Belleisle.  In  the  centre  of  the 
bay  was  grounded  a large  iceberg,  which  lay  melting  away  in  torrents 
under  the  influence  of  the  hot  July  sun. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  beauty  of  the  iridescent  colours  of  the 
fish  as  I handled  them  fresh  caught.  The  back  of  the  male  between 
the  ridges  flashed  from  deep  blue  to  emerald  green  as  it  caught  the 
light.  The  absence  of  timidity  on  the  part  of  the  fish  was  wonderful : 
it  seemed  as  if  no  amount  of  splashing  over  them  by  the  heavily 


366 


APPENDIX. 


weighted  cast-nets  could  frighten  the  remainder  from  the  shore. 
They  appeared  impelled  to  push  in  by  strong  instinct,  and  even  when 
W’ounded  and  dying  from  being  struck  by  the  lead  weights  of  the  net, 
their  heads  would  still  point  to  the  beach.  We  could  readily  capture 
them  with  our  hands  as  they  swam  close  in,  scarcely  wetting  our 
feet.  The  sand  and  gravel  of  the  beach  was  mixed  with  a large  pro- 
portion of  spawn  ; I found  the  latter  in  the  stomachs  of  several  of 
the  males  which  I opened. 

As  has  been  stated,  the  primary  and  most  important  use  of  the 
caplin  in  Newfoundland,  Labrador,  and  the  Gulf  is  as  bait  for  the 
cod.  During  the  spring  the  fish  has  been  taken,  both  on  the  banks 
and  along  shore,  by  herring,  but  in  incousiderable  numbers;  now, 
however,  they  look  for  their  great  annual  glut,  and  caplin  alone  will 
take  them.  Every  shore  boat  must  have  its  fresh  caplin,  as  well  as 
every  Frenchman  on  the  banks.  It  is  the  bait  of  the  hook-and-line 
fisherman  as  well  as  for  the  destructive  bultow.  Were  the  supply  of 
caplin  withheld  from  the  French,  their  great  fishery  fieet  could  do 
nothing,  as,  having  exhausted  the  supply  from  their  own  islands  of 
St.  Pierre  and  Miquelon,  by  taking  and  wasting  the  fish  with  too 
great  prodigality,  they  are  now  entirely  dependent  on  the  supply 
from  the  harbours  of  the  main  island. 

It  is  evident  that  any  material  and  permanent  decrease  of  this  bait 
must  tell  directly  on  the  fisheries.  The  caplin  may,  as  has  been 
proved,  be  so  thinned  by  wholesale  destruction  whilst  spawning  on 
the  beach,  whilst  many  are  driven  off  and  compelled  to  drop  their 
spawn  in  deep  water,  where  it  will  not  vivify,  as  finally  to  desert  a 
locality  for  ever.  On  many  parts  of  the  Newfoundland  coast  this  has 
been  the  case,  and  Perley  states  that  the  cod  fishery  of  the  Bay  of 
Chaleur  has  greatly  fallen  off  since  the  caplin  have  almost  ceased  to 
visit  parts  of  it,  and  many  houses  in  consequence  found  it  necessary 
to  break  up  their  establishments.  The  great  complaints  of  the 
scarcity  of  bait  along  the  western  shore  of  Newfoundland  are  owing  to 
the  complete  failure  of  a celebrated  baiting  place  at  Lamaline,  where 
formerly  the  strand  looked  like  a bed  of  spawn,  but  now  is  completely 
ruined,  the  caplin  no  sooner  approaching  the  shore  than  they  were 
hauled  before  they  had  time  to  spawn.  In  fact  little  argument  is  re- 
quired to  prove  that  the  cod  fishery  must  stand  or  fall  with  the  supply 
of  caplin.  The  wasteful  practice  of  manuring  the  land  with  caplin  is 
another  incentive  to  taking  the  fish  wantonly.  Not  only  are  the 
dead  fish,  which  are  strewn  in  myriads  on  the  beaches,  collected  for 
manure,  but  live  fish  are  hauled  for  the  same  purpose,  and  hundreds 


APPENDIX. 


367 


of  cartloads  have  I seen  upset  to  form  a heap  of  putrefaction,  after- 
wards to  be  spread  on  the  soil,  every  fish  composing  which  was  good 
and  wholesome  food  for  man,  eaten  fresh  on  the  spot,  or  simply  dried 
for  exportation  or  winter  use.  But  Newfoundland  is  shamefully 
prodigal  of  the  great  natural  resources  afforded  to  her.  It  is  true 
that  the  fish  is  dried  and  exported  to  the  markets  of  Europe — and  a 
more  delicious  dried  fish  than  the  caplin  does  not  exist ; but  why  this 
shameful  conversion  of  food  into  manure  from  sheer  laziness  ? Neither 
does  the  caplin  manure  prove  so  very  beneficial  after  all.  Though 
very  efficacious  for  one  year  for  grass  and  all  root  crops  except 
potatoes,  it  then  requires  renewal ; the  land  cannot  do  without  the 
stimulus,  or  it  soon  falls  off*.  About  five  loads  of  earth  are  mixed 
with  one  of  caplin,  which  is  bought  at  three  to  four  shillings.  The 
fish,  well  covered,  are  allowed  to  decompose  till  October ; then  mixed 
and  ploughed  in  the  land  either  that  fall  or  the  ensuing  spring.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  caplin  requires  little  or  no  attention  in  drying  to 
become  an  article  of  food.  A few  hours  in  pickle,  and  a few  more 
exposed  to  the  sun,  on  a stage  or  roof,  or  even  on  the  ground,  and 
they  may  be  packed  loosely  in  a barrel,  without  salt,  and  headed  up. 

Though  its  range  is  too  great,  and  its  spawning  grounds  far  too 
extended  to  render  extinction  of  the  species  possible,  yet,  in  the 
baiting  places  whence  it  is  obtained  for  the  use  of  the  neighbouring 
cod  fisheries,  it  has  been  in  many  instances  rendered  exceedingly 
scarce ; and  its  final  total  departure  from  these  resorts  must  ensue 
unless  it  is  protected  from  being  hauled  before  or  in  the  act  of 
spawning,  and  for  such  a wasteful  purpose  as  that  of  manuring  the 
land.  The  total  absence  of  bait  will  at  once  ruin  the  fisheries,  the 
immediate  effect  of  which  must  be  the  ruin,  starvation,  and  abandon- 
ment of  their  present  residence  on  the  part  of  thousands ; and  to 
such  a state  of  affairs  the  Newfoundland  fisheries,  including  its  very 
vitality  as  a colony,  seem  rapidly  drifting. 


THE  GASPEREAU. 

{Alosa  tyr annus.) 

Another  example  of  an  important  and  interesting  fish,  affecting 
the  shores  of  Acadie  as  far  north  as  the  Miramichi  river  in  New 
Brunswick,  is  afforded  by  the  Gaspereau,  a true  alosa  allied  to  the 
shad,  which  ascends  all  the  streams  and  brooks  of  these  provinces 
to  spawn  in  the  parent  lakes  in  the  beginning  of  May,  those  with 


338 


APPENDIX. 


clean  sandy  beaches  being  its  most  favoured  resorts.  Dr.  Gilpin 
thus  graphically  describes  its  progress  : — “ The  stream  before  us  is 
crowded  with  a multitudinous  marine  army,  coming  up  from  the  sea 
with  the  last  of  the  flood,  and  running  to  reach  the  lakes  to  spawn. 
A little  further  up  it  becomes  deep  and  smooth,  and  is  crossed  by  the 
high  road.  Lying  our  length  on  the  log  bridge,  we  watch  a continu- 
ous stream  passing  slowly  up,  two  or  three  inches  apart.  Further 
up,  and  the  river  breaks  over  a smooth  plane  of  slate  stones  too 
shallow  for  the  depth  of  the  flsh.  Arrived  at  this  plane  the  gaspe- 
reau  throws  himself  as  far  up  as  he  can,  and  then  commences  a series 
of  spasmodic  flaps  with  his  tail. 

“ Slowly  and  painfully  he  passes  over  and  drops  exhausted  into  the 
tranquil  pool  above.  Utterly  exhausted,  they  lie  heads  and  tails  in 
a confused  mass.  Presently  recruiting,  their  heads  all  pointing  up 
stream,  they  again  commence  their  march.  In  countless  hordes  they 
sweep  through  lonely  still  waters,  the  home  of  the  trout,  cool  and 
pellucid  enough  to  tempt  a weary  way  wanderer,  but  on  and  on  his 
irresistible  instinct  drives  him.  A natural  dam,  some  two  or  three 
feet  elevation,  and  over  which  the  waters  fall  with  a perpendicular 
rush,  now  arrests  his  progress.  He  throws  himself  (no  doubt  with  a 
vigorous  sweep  of  tail)  directly  at  it.  That  about  two  and  a half  to 
three  feet  is  his  utmost  range,  the  many  failures  he  makes  before  he 
drops  into  the  pool  above  attest. 

“ He  has  now  gained  his  lake,  often  a very  small  one  in  the  heart 
of  the  forest,  and  perhaps  at  six  hundred  feet  elevation  from  high 
water  mark.  And  now  commences  his  brief  courtship,  for,  unlike 
the  lordly  salmon  who  dallies  until  November,  our  fish  has  but  little 
time  for  delay.  Camping  on  the  lake-side  of  a moonlight  night,  you 
hear  a swash  in  the  water.  “ What  fish  in  that  ? ” you  ask  your 
Indian ; “ Gaspereau,”  is  his  answer.  The  trout-fisher  by  day  sees  the 
surface  of  the  lake  rufded  by  a hundred  fins,  then  the  trout  break  all 
around  him.  “ See  the  gaspereau  hunting  the  trout,”  he  says.  But 
these  are  only  his  harmless  gambols,  coloured  by  the  resistless  instinct 
of  reproduction.  He  has  even  been  known  to  rise  at  a fly,  and  to  take 
a bait  on  these  waters.  Although  the  salmon  and  trout  are  often  seen 
spawning,  I never  met  any  one  who  has  seen  the  Gaspereau  in  the  act. 

“In  three  or  four  weeks  after  leaving  the  salt  water,  his  brief 
holiday  over,  our  fish  commences  his  return.  Unnerved  by  the 
exhausting  toil  of  reproduction,  by  the  absence  of  food  (on  the  lakes 
their  stomachs  are  found  empty),  and  perchance  by  the  warming 
summer  waters,  he  addresses  himself  to  the  perils  and  dangers  of 


APPENDIX. 


369 


descent.  Too  poor  for  an  object  of  capture,  he  slips  down  unnoticed, 
save  by  the  idle  or  curious,  where,  a few  weeks  before,  a whole  popu- 
lation watched  his  ascent.  It  is  said  those  marine  wolves,  the  eels, 
follow  the  advancing  and  retreating  armies  in  their  rear,  gobbling  up 
many  a weak  fish,  or  unlucky  little  one  on  the  march.  A dry 
summer  has  emptied  the  lakes  and  turned  the  foaming  torrents  of 
the  spring  into  dusty  rills.  He  often  gets  caught  in  these  lukewarm 
shallows  and  dies.  Not  unfrequently  the  hunter  finds  them  in 
bushels  in  the  fords  ; quite  as  often  the  bear  secures  a rich  feast — 
dipping  his  hairy  paws  into  the  shallow  pools.  He  may  be  seen 
approaching  nervously  and  timidly  a rapid,  then  striking  up  stream, 
and  returning  pass  down  tail  first.  Those  which  are  seen  in  July 
or  passing  down  in  August,  we  must  consider  fish  that  have  left  the 
sea  late  in  May,  or  that  are  caught  by  the  dry  season,  and  go  down 
during  the  August  freshets.  Finally,  October  seems  to  be  the  last 
date  for  even  the  fry  to  be  seen  in  fresh  water.” 

The  advent  of  this  fish  in  fresh  water  just  at  the  time  when  fly- 
^ fishing  is  at  its  best,  often  proves  a source  of  vexation  to  the  angler. 
It  is.  so  disappointing,  just  as  one  is  commencing  to  ply  the  rod  over 
some  favourite  pool  for  sea-trout,  to  see  the  sharp  splash  of  the 
gaspereau,  and  the  gleam  of  their  silver  sides  as  they  dash  round  the 
pool  in  reckless  gambols.  The  trout  are  quite  cowed,  and  further 
fishing  is  useless ; for,  although  this  fresh-water  herring  will  some- 
times take  the  fly,  it  is  a worthless  fish  when  caught — thin,  tasteless, 
and  full  of  bones.  Drenched  in  brine,  and  eaten  as  a relish  with  a 
mess  of  potatoes,  it  forms  a common  diet  throughout  the  country  ; 
and  as  there  is  scarcely  a brook  too  small  for  the  gaspereau  to 
ascend,  provided  it  comes  from  a lake,  the  luxury  is  brought  fresh 
from  the  sea  to  the  very  door  of  many  a settler  in  the  remote 
backwoods.  Great  fun  to  the  youngsters  is  dipping  for  gaspereau. 
A noisy  crew  of  juveniles,  half-clothed  in  homespun,  stand  on  oppo- 
site sides,  or  striding  across  a forest  brook  ; presently  there  is  a 
shout  of  “ here  they  come  ! ” and  in  go  the  dip-nets  with  which  they 
are  armed,  working  with  the  stream.  At  every  scoop  two  or  three 
bright  silvery  fish  are  brought  out,  and  deposited  in  a tub  or  barrel 
behind.  It  is  a picturesque  scene — the  brook  dashing  between  the 
dark-brown  rocks,  the  surrounding  bushes  tinged  with  the  pale  green 
of  their  young  leaves,  and  laden  with  blossoms — the  excited  boys 
with  their  high-braced  trousers  tucked  up  over  the  knee,  and 
tattered  straw  hats,  and  the  gleam  of  the  fish  as  they  are  quickly 
hoisted  out. 


B B 


370 


APPENDIX. 


The  damming  up  of  many  of  these  forest  brooks  to  supply  saw 
mills,  and  the  disgraceful  plan  of  stopping  the  now  worthless  fish  on 
their  return  from  spawning,  by  brushwood  weirs  stretched  com- 
pletely across  the  stream,  is  fast  shortening  the  supply  of  these 
welcome  visitors  to  the  interior  waters  of  the  backwoods,  thereby 
also  depriving  many  of  the  harbours  of  the  anxiously-sought  visits  of 
the  mackerel,  which  come  in  vast  shoals  in  search  of  the  young  fry 
of  the  gaspereau  and  the  smelt.  To  enable  this  fish  to  ascend  the 
rough  waters  and  falls  of  the  streams  through  which  it  must  pass  to 
get  to  the  lake,  it  is  provided  with  a horny  ridge  or  keel,  passing 
along  the  belly,  and  armed  with  recurved  teeth  like  those  of  a saw, 
enabling  it  to  hold  its  ground  and  rest  on  the  rocky  bottom  in  the 
roughest  water. 


VOICES  OF  KEPTILIA  IN  SPRING. 

The  subjoined  passages  from  my  note  books  advert  to  the  multi- 
tudinous sounds  emitted  by  reptile  life  in  the  warm  nights  of  spring 
and  early  summer,  which  to  a stranger  appear  one  of  the  most 
striking  features  of  New  World  natural  history  : — 

May  10th. — Driving  homewards  this  evening  our  ears  were  almost 
deafened  by  the  chorus  of  frogs  in  the  road-side  swamps.  For  some 
days  past  we  have  been  cheered  by  their  welcome  voices,  but  to-night 
they  seemed  to  outdo  themselves.  The  principal  and  noisiest  per- 
former is  a little  fellow,  not  more  than  three  quarters  of  an  inch  in 
length,  and  so  shy  and  acute  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  him,  even  by  the  most  artful  approach.  This  is  the 
common  peeper  or  cricket  frog  (Hylodes  Pickeringii).  Its  quickly 
repeated,  chirping  note  is  very  like  that  of  the  common  house  cricket, 
and  equally  joyous.  If  we  stand  by  to  listen,  they  somehow  or  other 
slacken  gradually,  as  if  a warniug  of  danger  was  being  passed 
through  the  community : we  remove  a few  paces,  and  a solitary  peep 
of  a bold  frog  announces  that  the  danger  is  past,  and  away  they  all 
start  again  into  the  maddest  chorus,  each  trying  to  outvie  the  others. 
At  the  edge  of  the  swamp  sits  the  common  toad  (B.  americanus), 
and,  with  a distended  throat,  pours  out  that  rapid  and  peculiar 
trilling  note  which  may  always  be  heard  as  an  accompaniment  to 
the  frog  chorus  throughout  the  warm  nights  of  spring.  He  is  not 
quite  such  an  ugly  reptile  as  the  English  toad,  though  very  similar 
in  general  appearance  and  form  ; the  colour  is  lighter  and  brighter, 
sometimes  approaching  an  orange-yellow,  and  the  spots  and  markings 


APPENDIX. 


371 


are  more  conspicuous.  At  intervals  we  detect  the  solemn  croak 
of  the  large  green-headed  frog  (Kana  fontinalis),  which  seems  to 
put  periods  to  the  incessant  rattle  of  the  hjdodes  and  toads.  They 
seem  half  afraid  of  this  great  handsome  bully,  and  his  authoritative 
“ down,  down  ! ” comes  from  the  undoubted  monarch  of  the  swamp. 
This  is  a very  pretty  reptile — a dark  brown  skin  barred  with  black, 
the  head  and  upper  portion  of  the  back  bright  grass  green,  and  the 
throat  a glaring  yellow.  Their  colours  are  most  developed  at  mid- 
summer, when  they  sit  croaking  in  shallow  ponds  throughout  the 
day  as  well  as  night,  and  pursue  one  another  with  prodigious  leaps. 
I have  seen  them  clear  eight  feet  at  a jump.  Eeturning  from  fishing, 
I have  tempted  these  frogs  to  spring  on  a red  fly  dangled  over  their 
nose,  and  a disagreeable  business  the  releasing  of  the  slimy  monsters 
proved. 

A good  scene  for  a Christmas  pantomime  would  be  a representation 
of  one  of  our  swamps,  with  an  opening  chorus  of  the  little  peepers,” 
and  a laughable  representation  of  bull-frogs  by  agile  humans  meta- 
morphosed into  reptiles,  whilst  the  staid  old  toad  slowly  waddles  up 
the  bank,  and  pours  forth  his  monotonous  trill.  The  hylodes  might 
be  shown  clinging  to  the  stems  of  rushes  above  the  surface  of  the 
pool  (a  position  in  which  I have  discovered  them  by  the  aid  of  a 
bull’s-eye  lantern  at  night),  inflating  their  immense  throat  bags  to 
produce  their  shrill  pipe,  whilst  an  admirable  scenic  effect  might  be 
rendered  by  imitation  of  the  swamp  vegetation — the  tussacs  of  pink 
sphagnum  perforated  by  the  crimson  and  green  vases  of  the  pitcher 
plant  and  covered  by  the  creeping  tendrils  and  great  shining 
apples  of  the  cranberry,  clumps  of  bulrush,  purple  iris,  and  other 
waterside  plants,  arrow  heads,  and  the  two  water  lilies,  white  and 
yellow. 


THE  END. 


BRADBURY,  EVANS,  AND  CO.,  PRINTERS,  WHITEFRIARS. 


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